Perennial Future
by Clio S.S
Summary: After Monkey D. Luffy claimed One Piece along with the title of the Pirate King, Trafalgar Law settled down on Raftel and became a full-time doctor. Once called the 'Surgeon of Death', he believes that his future is clearly determined. He wouldn't even guess that the fate prepares him a surprise... 30 chapters plus epilogue and bonus.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

Corazon Memorial Hospital. The only medical institution in the world that can boast its one hundred percent recovery rate. It is located on Raftel, that some call 'the island of the beginning' and others dub it 'the place of the end'. Some others consider it solely as the domain of the Pirate King, and one specific group of people tries to forget it altogether, for it spelled the death of their welfare, ambitions or dreams, that day over ten years ago when Monkey D. Luffy discovered what exactly was One Piece and the whole world learned the truth about it.

For Trafalgar D. Water Law, Raftel is just a place where he lives and works. As the owner, administrator and the chief physician of the hospital, he's simply too busy to contemplate either the past or the historical-political context of the island. He spends his days - and often nights too - practising medicine, that is treating people and supervising treatment, perfecting his skills and educating others. He's not the only doctor here; even with his exceptional capabilities, he would never be able to take care of that mass of patients that every day come here, believing they would be cured. Law works only on the hopeless cases, those that conventional medicine can do nothing about, and he delegates the whole rest to his team. Apart from his former crewmates of the Heart Pirates, who are on the staff to a man, the hospital employs much more people who, in last ten years, arrived on Raftel, aspiring to work in the most unusual clinic and under the guidance of the greatest doctor in the world. Specialists of every medical branch can be found here, as well as the students, trainees and interns, to say nothing of the extensive nursing staff and support personnel.

This is Trafalgar Law: a man of thirty eight, not too tall and just right slender, with ruffled black hair, always composed expression, and sharp eyes that are grey like the sea by daylight and yellowish in the dark. He wears simple clothes: blue jeans and black shirt, with white coat over it. There is stethoscope around his neck and glasses on his nose, given he is reading. With goatee, multiple tattoos and a few earrings, he doesn't look like your average doctor - and he never was one. His Devil Fruit, Ope Ope no Mi, enables him to penetrate and affect any living form, which makes him the perfect doctor. Once, when he was a pirate, people used to call him a 'Surgeon of Death', yet at present hardly anyone remembers that epithet, for in the last decade Trafalgar Law hasn't allowed a single life to perish after it had been put into his hands.

Since he quit with being a pirate - first having helped Monkey D. Luffy to claim One Piece along with the title of the Pirate King, and almost accidentally brought about the revolution, too - his existence has been filled completely with medicine. He lives, sleeps and eats in the hospital, and he gives the work almost every moment of being awake. He doesn't think of anything else, only concentrates solely on the patients and educating the next generation of the physicians. He hasn't left Raftel for a long, long time. He enjoys finally doing something useful, something that wouldn't make him feel guilty, something to ease that remorse he's been living with for years. Ope Ope no Mi, the gift of life, heart and love he received as a kid, burns in his chest and urges him forwards... yet it's so tightly integrated with his personality that he rarely wonders about his motives. He's long since accepted his past and internalised the name of the clinic that, just like his Devil Fruit, is the only bridge to the said past. In the first instance, the Corazon Memorial Hospital is a hospital - a place where the future is being forged every day, often with Law's own hands.

Trafalgar Law believes that _his_ future is already determined, and he expects nothing to be changed. He still doesn't know that the fate prepares him a surprise.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

"Happy Birthday, Captain!" Bepo's cheerful cry welcomed him in place of the usual greeting. "I mean, Director," the mink corrected the very next moment.

"Bepo, it's four AM," Law muttered, running one hand through his hair and deciding to spare himself the trouble of making a remark about calling him Director. Apparently, Bepo just _had_ to address him in a specific manner, and no remarks, requests or threats could change it.

"Which means that your birthday started four hours ago already!" the head of the emergency department pointed out with enthusiasm, blinking at him at the same time, although Law didn't need that to know that such exaltation was at least half faked.

"I'm thirty nine already... Nothing to be happy about," he said in reluctance that turned into a yawn.

Bepo patted him on the back to wordlessly express his support and then followed him when Law headed for the canteen. The hospital worked day and night, so one could get coffee whenever needed. Since Law didn't have regular hours of sleep, the idea to have fresh coffee brought to his office every morning just wouldn't do. Things being as they were, he at least had an occasion to use his legs right after waking up.

"Everything fine on your end?" he asked as they walked.

Bepo nodded. In general, the hospital on Raftel handled the chronically ill patients that would be referred here from all over the world, but it did have a small emergency unit for the sake of the local population, too. The submarine ambulances, inspired by the Polar Tang, could quickly transport the patients of the surrounding islands here. Since such cases weren't very often, Bepo was also in charge of teaching emergency medicine, both to medical students and the doctors working in this region of the Grand Line. When the Great Pirate Era had ended and the World Government had been formed anew, the priorities of the authorities had changed as well, and the promises to provide all citizens with the equal access to the health care had been quickly brought to fruition. Law had known well that there was never too much doctors, so he'd opened the doors of the Corazon Memorial Hospital to everyone wishing to improve their medical skills.

"What about your day?" Bepo asked. "It's your birthday, you really should take a day off..." he suggested timidly and without any conviction since every year the result was the same.

Law waved his hand. "I told you it's no reason to celebrate. And my work won't happen by itself," he pointed out.

"No need to sound like you didn't like it," Bepo noticed, "since everybody knows you're a workaholic. And I know I repeat myself, but you should really take better care of yourself. How much did you sleep last night?" he asked when Law yawned once more.

"Three hours," Law replied and continued before Bepo commented, "But let me remind you that for my modified organism it's perfectly enough."

Bepo looked at him, clearly not convinced, but said no more. They reached the canteen and took the table by the window. It was still dark outside, and the soundproof panes made it impossible to hear the sound of waves, but they both knew that the sea was certainly there. They were immediately offered breakfast that Law dig into eagerly. They knew each other two-thirds of life, Law suddenly realised, and Bepo had hardly ever let him go by without a breakfast in the morning. No arguments could persuade the mink to do otherwise; even in the least favourable conditions he would make sure that his boss ate something after waking up. Law could skip any other meal, but this one Bepo would never absolve him from and, long ago, would often prepare it himself. Nowadays, there was no longer any need for doing so - after two and a half decade of such measures, Law's stomach demanded food in the morning itself - and yet Bepo would often accompany his former captain in breakfast nonetheless.

"Besides, look who's talking," Law muttered between one bite of fish and another. "You're awake too at this hour."

"But I still sleep much more than you," Bepo replied.

"I can modify you too if you want to sleep less..."

"Thank you, there's no need for that. Contrary to you, I like to sleep."

Law said nothing and drank his coffee instead. It was true. He considered sleep to be a completely useless invention... That was, as a doctor, he knew perfectly well that a living creature wasn't able to function without sleep, yet himself he would rather not waste time in such an unproductive way. Well, for now he just had to accept that three hours. One day, he would undoubtedly lower that amount to two...

"Then, what's your plan for today?" Bepo's voice interrupted his reverie.

Law shrugged, running through his schedule in his thought. "Surgeries until noon, consultations in the afternoon, new admissions until the evening, and then preparing for tomorrow. Day like every one."

"But of course you have that half an hour for _him_, right?" Bepo said, looking at him intently. "I bet he'll be here at six, like always."

Law frowned, trying to understand. "Damn..." he muttered upon remembering. Bepo nodded. "I thought he wasn't on Raftel?"

"He returned yesterday."

Law ground his teeth. "Maybe he wouldn't remember...?" he asked hopefully.

Bepo gave him a sceptical look. "But he always remembers."

Law swore again under his breath. He was right, a birthday was never a reason to celebrate, but now he realised it was really so. The day that had promised to be so pleasant amongst the usual routine and medical challenges, was disturbed by the vision of the visit of the man that Law would like to see anywhere but his own hospital, no matter how ungrateful that was on his part.

It was Monkey D. Luffy who had made possible everything that Law enjoyed now. Apart from their previous collaboration that had helped Law close one chapter of his life, Luffy had let him stay on Raftel, finding the idea of building a hospital perfect, and supporting the enterprise both financially and workforce-wise. In the main hall, right in front of the entrance, there hung a board informing that the Corazon Memorial Hospital had been established owing to the invaluable support of the Pirate King. Law didn't doubt he would make his dream come true this way or another, yet thanks to Luffy it had taken shape even before he'd sat down to making any detailed plans.

After celebration of having reached Raftel and claimed One piece, after revolution and establishing a new order, after coronation and the royal wedding, the Straw Hat Crew - having nothing else to do and threatened by the worst perspective of being bored - had eagerly started to realise the idea. With Nami as an administrative director and Franky as both architect and construction manager, the project had had a substantial chance of success. Usopp had been nominated as Franky's assistant in the technical matters, while Zoro and Sanji had been put in charge of providing the building materials. Robin, with her artistic sense, had been the only sound candidate for an interior decorator, while Chopped had helped Law in the recruitment process of the staff. Brook's task had been to ensure safety and comfort of the workforce.

The hospital had been opened one year later - just in time to deliver the first-born son of the Pirate King. How Luffy had become a married man was a story itself; in short, he _hadn't noticed_ when shrewd Boa Hancock had taken advantage of the multi-day libation to carry out a marriage ceremony. Rumour had it that she'd been instigated by Nami, who believed that one should take matters in their hands and always took the women's side. Presented with a fait accompli, Luffy'd said his typical 'It can't be helped', totally unbothered by such a sudden change in his civil state. It could also be that he'd expected something like that - after all, the empress of the Kuja Warriors wasn't someone to give up on her ambitions - and besides he'd probably agreed that the king should have his _queen._

However, if one could somehow imagine Luffy as a husband, it required time and some mental strain to see him as a _father_. Claiming One Piece and the Pirate King title hadn't influenced his character in the slightest, which made Luffy always seem a kid despite his actual age. It had been over a decade since those events, but Luffy hadn't changed a bit, and Law suspected that even at the age of hundred the Pirate King would be that steadfast silly, whom absolutely everyone around him loved.

Drinking his coffee and staring at the invisible sea outside, Law thought about Luffy and Hancock's offspring, that totalled seven already. A cold shiver ran down his spine at the thought that the next kid could be on his way, because after Luffy's brother and all male members of the Straw Hats he was the next in the line to become a godfather. And even though something like that might seem a real honour... Law fervently hoped that seven was what Pirate King and Queen would stop at. Putting aside he didn't like kids, he really didn't want to see Luffy more often that once a year, when the man visited him on his birthday. Actually, Law couldn't understand how someone who seemed to use his brain for something else than the rest of people could remember about it, yet he always remembered. Maybe it was one of those mysteries that would never be logically explained.

In any case, it seemed that around six PM he would have a half an hour break... Law updated his inner schedule without wincing, trying to see positives, which was that Luffy made do with just half an hour. Which was also creditable, over the years the Pirate King had learned to come at the specific hour, for in the beginning he'd used to visit the hospital in the early afternoon and demand to see Law at once, disturbing the work of the whole facility.

His inner clock told him it was half past four, which meant he should begin his work. It was still dark and quiet outside. Bepo was yawning in his chair, and Law suddenly felt he was grateful to him for this morning. The mink that had been staying by his side two-thirds of his life, was his faithful friend - and the only person whose sentiments and caresses Law accepted. He'd long since stopped wondering how it was that Bepo was always awake to greet him as the first man.

"Have some sleep," he said with a smile, getting from the table. "There's still time until classes."

After a moment, Bepo nodded. "Happy Birthday," he said again, and Law kept from rolling his eyes. "It's going to be a good day," the mink added convincedly.

Law wished he had his optimism, but as he was soon on the way to the ward he should perform the first surgery today, he managed to convince himself that, birthday or not, this day would undoubtedly _be_ good, just like every previous one. Once he reached his destination, all thoughts unrelated to medicine had already vanished from his mind. The ability to focus entirely on his task was one of his greatest assets.

Most of his patients were people with malignancies and life-threatening genetic disorders. While the first group was multi-age, the former consisted mostly of children. He also happened to tend to acute cases - those that the emergency unit couldn't manage - but something like that was rare, with Bepo's skills. Taking everything in the consideration, there was no such thing as a 'standard patient' in the hospital on Raftel; every day could bring a man suffering from a disease that was completely unfamiliar to the staff along with the chief doctor. Because of that Law used to consider every patient as a challenge to meet - and he always succeeded. He was called a miracle man, even though he wasn't a god; the only thing that was divine was those skills given by the Ope Ope no Mi: the abilities to break the limits of physiology and pathology. Of course, his achievements filled him with satisfaction, but the most important was that after his treatment people returned home healthier than ever before.

The patients arrived in the hospital either referred by the doctors from another clinic or by themselves. It was the policy of the Corazon Memorial Hospital to never deny anyone the right to seek counsel. Still, it didn't mean that everyone was treated here. If the initial diagnostics revealed that the disease is so moderate that it didn't require the hospital treatment, the patient was sent back to his doctor with due orders. Law operated only on those, who needed the Ope Ope no Mi; medics working under the guidance of the greatest doctor in the world were constantly getting better in isolating those cases. Sometimes it happened, too, that a person initially classified as requiring a conventional treatment, appeared to need the power of the Devil Fruit. Law was at every ward's disposal, and, in the critical situations, he as able to operate simultaneously.

Law started his every day from the patients that didn't require any special preparation. Those people often didn't even realise they were undergoing a surgery, for Law dealt with them when they were still sleeping, in the perfect silence, in their own rooms and beds. Those who happened to be awake would later tell how Doctor Law moved alone through the wards, making the patients healthy again. A girl suffering from a genetic defect of the blood vessels that caused life-threatening aneurysms. A boy with the tumours being produced in his organism and disturbing the function of every organ. A pregnant woman with a dysfunctional placenta, who despite many attempts couldn't carry a single baby to term. A young woman with the congenital disorder of copper metabolism that in a few years would lead to progressive dementia and death. An elderly man with a rheumatism, unable to move due to deformation of joints and constant pain. Law used to examine those patients the previous day and form a plan of treatment.

This is Trafalgar Law at work: His patient is sleeping more or less calmly, maybe seeing in dream what would he do once he's cured. He doesn't know that the doctor is already standing by his bed and that upon opening his eyes, he will be a healthy man. Law activates the Ope Ope no Mi, surrounding the patient with his operating room. Now the patient won't wake until it's over. Inside that dimension - separated from the reality and all other matters - Law acts, relying not on senses but on another function, unavailable to him in normal circumstances. The patient's organism - its every part and function - opens before him in a way much broader than it could be examined by sight, hearing or touch, it reveals its all secrets. Law removes the results of the pathological processes on the tissular and molecular level and then repairs the genetic code to annihilate the disease once and for all. He always strives to perform the whole treatment, but sometimes he is forced to phase them, especially when it's a new and unknown disease in question. Now, however, it's already over. The patient is still sleeping, he has yet to realise that the obstacle on the path of his life was removed and the road can be seen all the way to the horizon again. It will be no sooner than upon waking up that he will notice that he can breathe or think with ease, or that he is able to walk normally and no longer feels any pain. For now, there is no need to interrupt his sleep.

As for the patients whose treatment requires preparation, Law works on them when the day has started for good. He does it together with Shachi and Penguin, whom - despite the best hopes and efforts - he didn't manage to turn into more than assistants. However, Law doesn't consider them merely as helpers; they are his partners in the fight for the patients' life and health. Law knows the two of them as long as he knows Bepo, and he trusts their skills as much as his own. As for their ability to create a good mood, he trusts them much more than himself.

"Good morning!" Penguin called with a wide grin when Law entered the surgery room.

"And Happy Bir-" Shachi started, but a jab to his side made him stop in the half.

Law rolled his eyes but didn't comment. At least, they hadn't decorated the room with the garlands and other nonsense, which they'd used to do before, although he was sure later he would be given a 'surprise' gift anyway.

"Good morning. Everything's ready?"

"Sure," Penguin replied, taking the medical record from the pile next to him and giving it to Law.

"Then, can we start?"

"Right away."

The first person today was a middle-aged man whom the work conditions had exposed to toxic substance, and in a prolonged period of time. The poison had been accumulating in his body for years, leading to the multi-organ failure. Actually, it was yet another case of the same disease. Law, who'd experienced a similar thing himself, had already used his connections, which resulted in the company having been closed and those at fault punished. He suspected that man wasn't his last patient with that particular condition - and he waited for the rest. He hoped that everyone poisoned would manage to reach this place before it was too late. The tragedy of the Amber Lead mustn't be repeated.

That patient was already in a critical condition, but it still wasn't too late for him. Law could cure any person, even severely ill, as long as they were still alive. With the Ope Ope no Mi, he was able to stabilise the patient - a kind of freeze all functions of the organism at a certain level - and then calmly prepare to operation. In this particular case he didn't need any specific preparation. He'd learned how to remove poison from the tissues and organs as a kid already, and on himself. The operation was performed as planned and was soon over. It would take some time before the patient regained his consciousness - his organism needed time to recover to its previous strength - but once he did, he would realise that the sentence had been miraculously lifted from his head.

"Good job, boss," Penguin said when the patient had been moved to the post-operative room.

"Good job, Penguin, Shachi," Law replied like he'd used to. "Now, to the next one."

This is how Law's hours pass until its noon. He usually has a quick lunch then, followed by two-hour counselling session. It is the time when other doctors have possibility to discuss the difficult cases with him, the ones they cannot manage by themselves. Apart of the Ope Ope no Mi, Law has an outstanding medical knowledge and thus is the greatest authority in his field for his subordinates. He intently listens to the presented cases - the doctors had long since learned to be concise yet maximally detailed when doing so - asks questions and offers his advise. He gives them as much time as needed, aware that if it wasn't for those people, as much as they admire and respect him, this very hospital just wouldn't roll.

After that, Law begins to admit the new patients, examine those he's going to operate on tomorrow. This part is, in a way, more important that the treatment itself, for it determines what kind of surgery a person will need. Law tends to operate the next day, for it's the only way to process the waiting list. He admits children, adults and elderly people, focusing on each of them fully, giving prescriptions and making decisions. Every patient feels like he or she were the only medical cases in the world. No, they feel as if they were received by a god, because Trafalgar Law, for all his tattooed arms and chest, his tousled hair and stern expression, is considered a god by the majority of people whose life is in his hands.

The inner clock told him it was six PM. He'd managed to admit exactly the amount of new patients he'd planned. If nothing unexpected happened, all that was left for today was to see those he'd operated this morning and to prepare for the surgeries he'd do tomorrow.

Foot-stomping in the corridor told him that something unexpected - at least, until yesterday - was about to happen indeed. He suppressed a sigh as the door of his office opened the next moment, letting inside a yellow-blue-red tornado that was the Pirate King.

"Torao! Happy Birthday!" Monkey D. Luffy cried out and came to the halt before Law's desk, dropping a whole pile of gifts onto it.

"How many times should I tell you not to run in my hospital?" Law grunted, although his discontent was mostly faked.

"Come on, it's only from the balcony."

"You jumped on the balcony, then," Law said, though there wasn't really such need.

"It's the fastest way," Luffy replied, then sat down on the desk and grinned at him. "There's too much corridors here, and I always get lost," he added with a disarming honesty.

Law suppressed another sigh. To be frank, times when he could be angry with Luffy, had been so distant he hardly could remember them. During all those years around the Straw Hat, he'd learned how to see only positives. Now, for example, he appreciated that Luffy had indeed used the nearest balcony instead of creating a chaos and running through all the floors. Which was also creditable, he'd remembered _which_ balcony it was.

"Are you doing well, Torao?" the Pirate King asked, and Law knew his concern was real.

"I have nothing to complain," he replied truthfully.

Before he managed to ask the same, Luffy looked around and seemed clearly disappointed. "Where's a snack? You didn't forget I'd come, right?"

"It'll be here any moment... Look, there it comes." A trolley with a cake, teapot and two cups drew into the office, pushed by no-one else but Bepo. (Law had never loved his friend, who always remembered about such things, as much as he did now).

Upon seeing him, Luffy beamed like a sun. "Bepo!" he cried and flung himself into the mink's arms.

Law observed that explosion of joy, trying not to smile, which was difficult. It was how Luffy affected people. He might be the most annoying, unpredictable and untamed incarnation of chaos, and yet he could always bring smile to the faces of people he loved. It had been over ten years since he'd brought the Grand Line under his control and become the Pirate King, but he was just like before. He hadn't changed physically either, and Law suspected it was because of the Gomu Gomu no Mi, that must have given his skin unparalleled elasticy. Then again, in his heart Luffy had probably remained a child, which sometimes made a person truly resistant to aging.

"The weather is great, you should sit outside," Bepo decided and opened the balcony door.

Law didn't protest. The weather was great indeed: a serene autumn day, devoid of the summer heat and still far from winter so no-one got cold, even now that the sun was setting already. It wasn't windy today, but the air smelled of salt all year long. The ocean under the azure sky had the colour of deep sapphire, and the scream of gulls completed that seascape. Luffy jumped on the railing and stared at the scenery, although he probably could see the same from his palace all the time.

Bepo poured tea to the cups, cut the cake and then disappeared. Law took his cup. "What's up?" he asked.

Luffy turned to him and reached for the rhubarb pie. "Effyfing fine," he replied, then swallowed down, licked his lips and grabbed another piece.

"Where did you travel this time?"

"The very far part of the South Blue!" Luffy called with enthusiasm. "They have such a looooooooong lizard there," he stretched his arms for some dozen of meters. "You know, I persuaded them into changing their diet from humans to seafood. People living there didn't have it easy before."

"Where do you plan to go next?"

"No idea, but I'll think something up," the Pirate King answered with a wide grin and took yet another piece of cake.

"Don't you miss your family?"

"Nah, I'm home most of the time anyway. Or half of time. Almost half of time. And this time I had Ace with me!"

As far as Law knew, Ace was Luffy's first-born and a terrible rascal whenever his mother didn't look. "Did he like it?"

"He did, but not so much after one of those lizards tried to eat him. Haha, that was really funny...! Hancock almost killed me when we returned yesterday, but then she decided it was a good lesson of survival for him," Luffy stated cheerfully, and Law came to the conclusion that the eldest son of the Pirate King and Queen had suffered no harm, at least not physical... "What about you, Torao? When do you plan to get married?" came the question Law hadn't expected.

He waved his hand. "Now, I have more important things to do..."

"Come on, you'll see it's great!" Luffy encouraged him, although he sounded as if he was asking Law for some kind of adventure. Not that it didn't fit; for him, the whole life meant an adventure... "And it's a real fun with the kids. I'm never bored at home," he added convincedly, which told Law that in contacts with his offspring Luffy didn't act like an exemplary father, rather like a friend at the same level of development.

"I think you fill the quota for me too," Law muttered and drank his tea.

"To be frank, I've no idea where they came from," Luffy said, and this time there was some confusion in his voice.

"I didn't want to know that," Law replied. "Do you even remember their names?" he asked with not so little dose of a taunt.

"Of course I do, what do you take me for?!" Luffy resented the very suggestion. "And I didn't name them First, Second, Third, and so on... I even remember who their respective godparents are!"

Law felt the familiar shiver running down his spine. "Well, seven is a great achievement!" he called with an exaggerated animation, which didn't suit him at all; had it been anyone else than Luffy, he'd been exposed immediately. "I think you should settle for it."

"But I tell you that I don't know where all those kids came from..." Luffy replied with a moody resentment.

Law closed his eyes and ordered himself patience. It sounded as if Boa Hancock had her children through parthenogenesis... but those were definitely too difficult words, to say nothing of the ideas, to use them in the conversation with this particular Pirate King, so Law gave up at once. And besides, even if Hancock did come from the all-female Kuja Tribe, the gender of her five sons was incontrovertible... at least for Law, who had been present by every delivery.

"Speaking of the naming sense... How is Mister Prince doing?" he asked to change the topic to a safer one.

"Ah, he's just doing great as the chef of the All Baratie. He only complains all the time that Nami is bad for him. But she agreed to live with him, so I have no idea what he's talking about. But of course he always adds that even bad Nami is wonderful."

"What about her? Casino brings profits?"

"You don't even imagine!"

Law knew that some two years ago a great entertainment complex had been opened next to the Pirate King Palace. The former navigator of the Straw Hats, after she'd managed to create the charts of all oceans, had became its administrative director, while Brook was the art manager. The renowned restaurant All Baratie was situated there, too, and for Sanji it'd been the very same dream as the Corazon Memorial Hospital for Law. The complex housed also the History Museum, but its curator rarely came to Raftel, conducting archaeological research.

"Zoro still travels with Robin?"

"Let's hope so! Why, if he gets separated from her, he won't find his way home for the next ten years, even if he has ten Eternal Poses."

The best swordsman in the world had taken advantage of the fact that Robin was the only one of the Straw Hats that hadn't settled yet on Raftel, and often accompanied her on her trips. He was considered the greatest master of sword ever, and yet he believed that only a fool rested on his laurels. Law didn't know what Zoro did during his trips, probably trained himself and others. Even if the man was the most composed amongst Luffy's former crew and appeared to need nothing more than good sake and some sleep, in reality he'd always aimed high and constantly strived to improve himself. Law couldn't say he didn't respect that.

"Everything's fine in Franky's shipyard?"

"You bet! They're so busy with Usopp that sometimes they lack workforce. But they always manage to meet the deadlines. You know that the government orders the ships from there, to say nothing about the private clients."

"Then, Usopp still hasn't agreed to take the post of the shooting instructor in the Navy?"

"Sure he hasn't. But he sometimes organises courses that the recruits are allowed to participate in, privately. But you better tell me how's Chopper doing...? He hardly ever visits us nowadays...!" Luffy said in a reproaching manner. "You have a bad influence on him, Torao!"

"Maybe he tries to avoid your kids, after they decided to keep him as a beast of burden...?" Law suggested mockingly.

"Of course not! I bet you're giving him too much work and too less holiday, Mister Director," Luffy retorted.

"What can I co? All doctors are workaholics..." Law muttered in reply but then added defensively, "I never deny my workers holidays."

"Okay, okay..." Luffy settled for that. "I'll visit him. Where's that intern ward he works?"

"Internal ward," Law corrected, rolling his eyes. "Tell him he can take leave whenever he wishes to."

They kept talking for a while before Luffy jumped down from the railing. "Then, I'm not taking more of your time. I know you're busy," he said in a serious tone, which was unlike him. Then it seemed he'd remembered something, and he started to grabble his body all over until he finally drew a folded paper from under his clothes. He spent a moment, hopelessly trying to resmooth it and then ceremonially handed it to Law, who had risen from his seat, too. "It's from the girls. The guys didn't remember about your birthday, but La and Ca didn't forget."

Law opened the paper, which was de facto a picture depicting two spotted creatures - he guessed they were the snow leopard and spotted seal, his favourite animals, which he'd once mentioned in the company - decorated with flower garlands. There was also a colourful writing, 'For Dear Uncle Torao'. The picture seemed exactly like a work of a seven-year-old kid, but for some reason Law was almost touched. He didn't like children as a rule, but Laelya and Catleya - the only daughters and twins in Luffy's family - had clearly wanted to give him joy.

Luffy patted him on the shoulder. "You should visit us sometimes, Torao," he said with a slight reproach. "We don't live far."

Law wanted to reply with his typical excuse, but he checked himself this time. "Thanks for coming," he said instead and realised he was glad indeed.

Luffy's smile was brighter than the sun, that was sinking under the horizon, and Law almost felt guilty that their contacts were nowadays so spare. The next moment, the Pirate King jumped down from the balcony. "Hey, you didn't ask me how to get to the internal ward!" Law called, leaning out.

Luffy looked up, holding his hat. "I'll have a look at the list in the main hall," he called back. "You know that I would get lost even after getting the best directions. See you, Torao!"

He disappeared inside the building before Law managed to raise a hand to wave him goodbye. He had to hope that the Corazon Memorial Hospital would survive that visit... Law smiled to his own thoughts. Of course it would last... and maybe even take in some of that positive energy that the happy Pirate King radiated always and in every place.

Law returned to the chair and stared at the darkening skies. He decided to spare a moment before sitting down to the patients' records and notes. He poured himself tea and drank it, pensive. He really enjoyed Luffy's visit, even though it'd filled him with frustration only this morning.

Luffy was one of the nicest people Law had ever met and someone whom he owe to much more than just this hospital. Also, he was someone who had stuck to him and never let go, regardless of how much Law had tried to shake him off... but it had been long since he'd tried. He knew from autopsy that people like Luffy never gave up... and he himself was probably some kind of a magnet for them and could do nothing about it.

Drinking the lukewarm tea, he recalled the conversation he'd just had. Luffy had showed him a beautiful picture of how his friends were doing. It seemed that the Straw Hats - even after the crew as such had ceased being - didn't feel like breaking up, although nowadays the relationships they had with each other were different, somehow even deeper. Nami still bore with Sanji - not only had she allowed him to accompany her on her journey for the glory of the greatest cartographer of the world, but she also had agreed to live with him after they'd returned to Raftel. It could mean only one thing: she reciprocated the feelings of the greatest chef, who had been able to postpone his own dreams for her. Zoro still travelled with Robin, and it proved the trust the two had in each other - and they'd been the most distrustful members of the Straw Hats, to begin with! Usopp had long since married Kaya and fathered two kids, Luffy's family happiness was even bigger (that was, he had both bigger wife and number of children), even Penguin and Shachi had families, as did most of Law's companions from the Heart Pirates. There was only one conclusion to be drawn from that: a man wasn't meant to be alone.

To Trafalgar Law, however, the idea to have a family was distant, even though there was more than just a few women that would gladly stay by his side and give him love. (Sometimes those ladies needed to be politely yet firmly escorted outside the grounds of the Corazon Memorial Hospital, among them those who claimed to be terminally ill). Nowadays, Law's life was entirely filled with work, which was perfect for him. He couldn't imagine himself as a husband and father. He was a doctor possessing the Ope Ope no Mi and its amazing powers. It was the only reasonable option to spend his life using those powers to help others. Only he could perform such medical miracles, and no-one else. He was the hope for salvation for many people. Every moment of his time was precious. He couldn't just hang his white coat up on the wall and occupy himself with the personal happiness; the very thought seemed unethical. Trafalgar Law belonged to the whole humanity, and he was happy about it. That knowledge gave him strength and pushed forward, and filled him with sense of purpose.

But when he let himself think about it, like now, he could see something else streaming through that rational-ideological cover, something deeper, more instinctive and strongly rooted in his very personality. As much as he could present himself with the logical arguments and fully agree with them, the motives of his behaviour were much more complicated. After he'd lost more than any person should ever lose in their life, he was scared to become emotionally involved again. He didn't dare to become attached to another person, for the fear of loss was too strong. He'd first lost his real family, and when the fate had given him someone who could have been his new family, he'd lost him, too. Two times was enough to crush any man for good; he'd somehow managed to raise from his knees and continued to live on, but wounded for ever. He appreciated all those who kept staying by his side and wouldn't leave: Bepo, Shachi and Penguin, and the rest of his former crew, Luffy and Sengoku-san, but he never let them come closer than the proverbial length of arms. (Even and especially if they didn't care a bit about it). Putting aside the fact he probably no longer was able to open himself to another person and enter into relationship, he couldn't imagine having a _family_. He was perfectly certain that the fear for his important ones would sooner or later eat him from the inside and didn't leave as much as a bone.

No, Trafalgar Law would rather lead his life alone, filling his days and nights with medicine, helping others and restoring hope, and never wondering about his motives. Alone, he was strong; he felt he had control over his existence. Doctor's work, regardless of the responsibility connected to it, was incomparably easier thing than so called personal life. Then again, knowing that there were areas in which he was far from ideal, strengthened his awareness of being just a human. Being a human wasn't bad.

He returned to his office and shamblesed all presents to the adjacent room - he knew they were gifts from the majority of the Straw Hats. He would browse through them one day, as he would do with the presents from Shachi and Penguin. He attached the Laelya and Catleya's picture on the wall, where he used to hang all works by his little patients. He was always baffled by the thought that someone minded him, but he accepted those tokens of affection without as much as a blink. He was well aware that a single gift was sometimes enough to change the whole life.

He knew that there was one man he wouldn't get any 'Happy Birthday' from. Sengoku-san used to visit him once a year, on that particular autumn-winter day that they both held in a greater significance than October 6. It was that day in the late November that Law considered as a real date of his birthday, for it was then, twenty-six years ago, that his new life had started. He would always stop working in the afternoon and sit in the arbour with the retired admiral. They had a good view on the stylised inscription hanging over the main entrance: Corazon Memorial Hospital - name which meaning only the two of them understood. They would talk, reminisce and drink good sake - scandalising the rare patients that happened to see them - and then parted for yet another year, wishing each other good health. That day was to come also this autumn, this winter.

Law sat down by the desk and started to look through the medical records of his patients. Within a minute, he submerged himself in work entirely.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N. Did you check out Chapter 1 in the previous file?

* * *

**Chapter 2**

The next day, Ikkaku sat by Law during the lunch, having first greeted him with casual "Hi". He was glad that over the time at least some of his former crew members had managed to forget the proprieties and stopped addressing him this foolish way or another. For her part, Ikkaku had never been someone to let others dictate her what to do if she didn't like it. Ever self-confident, she could speak her mind straight and didn't use to beat around the bush. She was a really splendid head of the obstetrics and gynaecology department, and her decisive demeanour made wonders with the distressed women who, thanks to that, forgot to overly sentimentalise over themselves. Ikkaku didn't lack empathy, but, like any exemplary doctor, she preferred acting over lamenting. Her patients often resented her for that, especially at the beginning, but when their treatment was over, they usually could appreciate that the chief doctor had forsaken proverbial patting on the head in favour of relentless striking hope and faith in them, even if in slightly harsh words.

"That woman you treated yesterday, with dysfunctional placenta... She's feeling great, as is the baby," Ikkaku said, grabbing the fork. "I'm going to keep her under observation for a few days, but I suppose I'll discharge her by weekend. I don't think she needs to stay here longer."

"Is there a hospital where she lives?" Law asked, although he didn't consider the patient to need any hospitalisation earlier than in childbirth, either.

"As far as I remember, there is. She lives in some bigger city... in the West Blue, I think. I mention her now because she'd love to thank you. Could you visit her? Just one minute will do."

"If I cut my lunch break short I should manage," he said with a wry smile.

"Moron... I didn't say you should do it now," Ikkaku informed with faked outrage, sticking her fork in the spaghetti.

"I'll try to go there tonight. Tomorrow, at the latest," he promised.

She nodded. She ate in silence for a moment before speaking up again. "It was your birthday yesterday, right? Happy Birthday," she threw impassively; she was well aware of his approach to this matter. She lifted the glass to her mouth, but her hand stopped mid-air, and the gaze in her brown eyes became more focused. "How old are you?"

"Thirty-nine," Law muttered from over his mug of tea.

She sighed. "Time flies. Do we really know each other so long?"

He nodded.

Ikkaku drank some water and continued eating. "Are you content?" she asked after another moment of silence. "I mean, with your life...?"

Law shrugged, finishing his meal. "Of course I am. I do what I like, and it even brings some good," he replied truthfully. "This hospital is my dream that came true."

"And it's enough for you?" she asked in a neutral voice.

"Even too much... I mean, I have too much work," he said, feeling the corner of his lips quiver.

Ikkaku, however, didn't seem amused. "Work, right..." she muttered. "You know, our students watch you in awe, but also frightened. They wonder if _every_ doctor should be like you... if _they_ will be like you once they graduate."

"I'm not like everyone," he replied without pride, just stating the fact. "No-one else has the Ope Ope no Mi. It's obvious I should use it for what is its purpose. I suppose every previous user did like I do now. It is strange?"

Ikakku pressed her lips in a tight line and shook her head, making her lavish curls bounce. "I don't care about the previous users of the Ope Ope no Mi. I care about you, who have it now. Law, you're my friend, and I'm worried about you. I know, I know, you think no-one should worry about you," she went on when he opened his mouth. "But it's just how we are: we worry," she said flatly. "Law, you have only one life. Next year you'll be forty... and will you still be content? And the next forty years from now? Sure, the history will remember you as the greatest doctor of all times, and it's the dream of all medics... But life is not just work. I fear that one day you will look back and regret."

"I won't," he replied at once and rose. "As for the students... Just tell them they shouldn't be afraid."

She put the fork down so forcibly that it hit the plate with a clang. "Damn you, Law...! You know it's not about the students...!" she snapped, clearly frustrated.

"I have to go," he said, taking his tray. Before he left, however, he turned to her once more. "Ikkaku... Thanks for caring. But I'm really fine. I like my work," he added, for he really thought so, although for some reason those words didn't seem entirely proper in this situation.

Her expression told him Ikkaku wasn't glad with that answer, either. She only gave him a sharp nod as a bye and resumed eating, obviously upset.

On his way back to his office, Law mused over her words. He'd said the truth, thanking her for her concern, but he considered it exaggerated anyway, he just hadn't known how to properly convey it in words. How he lived and acted was as natural as breathing to him. He couldn't imagine that, as the user of the Ope Ope no Mi, he might live in another way. He had long since chosen such life and, actually, he didn't remember if he'd ever wanted it to be different. After all, he'd studied medicine already as a kid. Getting the Ope Ope no Mi had only strengthened that choice, and it'd given him abilities well exceeding the limits of the known medicinal arts. What he did now was so obvious that he was surprised someone could question that.

However, he realised that Ikkaku didn't question his choice of profession... only that it had been his only choice. It somehow reminded him of the conversation he'd had with Luffy the previous day... But, while the Pirate King could be easily fobbed - all it took was to divert his attention from the topic - Ikkaku was too focused person to forget something she considered important. Still, Law hoped that his colleague wouldn't keep on talking about this matter, for he knew it might annoy him. Well, he only needed to visit the obstetrics and gynaecology ward as rarely as possible, he decided with a crooked smile.

Nevertheless, he didn't forget his promise, and in the evening, after he'd admitted the new patients, he went to see the woman he'd cured yesterday. The head of the ward must have left already, and there was only the doctor on duty. Law found the patient sitting by the open window. It was already dark outside, but the sound of waves pleasantly filled the silence in the room. She didn't hear him coming, so he coughed lightly to make her notice him.

"Doctor...!" she called and wanted to get up, but he waved that she didn't need to, and sat down at the edge of her bed.

"Miss Alice, you wanted to see me..."

"I'm so glad you came, Doctor," she replied, smiling shyly. "I think I'm going to be discharged in a few days, and I wanted to thank you...! I know it's too early, I should wait until the baby is born..." She put one hand on her belly. "But the chief doctor said that everything is fine now...!" she added, still smiling, and then she kept talking, as if she couldn't stop. "I'm so grateful to you, Doctor. We wished for a baby so long, my husband and I... but every pregnancy ended in miscarriage. The doctors couldn't help me, I almost lost any hope... But then I heard about this hospital. In fact, it's still hard to believe that we can success this time. Do you think it will be fine, Doctor?" she asked, looking at him beggingly and twisting her fingers nervously.

How many conversations like this one had he had until now? Impossible to count. The words came to him easily - what difficult was in telling the patient she was healthy now? - but he always tried to treat the person individually. "As I told you, Madame, you suffered from the genetic defect that caused the dysfunction of placenta. I repaired the defect, and now your chances to have a baby are the same as of any healthy woman," he replied, careful not to use too many medical terms. "I also removed all damages that disease had caused to your body. In all likelihood, you're going to carry this baby to term, and every next one, too."

"Oh," she covered her lips with her hand. "Every next one... I'm an only child, and I always wanted to have many children... But for now I only wish to have one. I waited years for the first one and despite trying... I still couldn't have them. And you restored hope...! Even if... even if something happens... I'll still be grateful to you," she assured him, although Law could see she didn't believe anything to happen. Nor did he.

"Madame, you know this hospital's cure rate is one hundred percent, don't you?" She nodded. "I can guarantee you that your organism is perfectly ready for bringing the baby to term."

Now she could no longer hide her emotion, and tears filled her eyes. She lowered her head and looked for a handkerchief. She was a slightly-built woman of thirty-three, she had light brown hair and blue eyes. Nothing in her appearance drew attention, except that she looked older than she was.

"As for those next children..." he said, recalling her previous words. "If you have daughters, mind it please that they don't need to worry about their pregnancies, either." She looked up at him, her eyes were glistening. "You are an only child. Your mother also had troubles carrying it full term, that's what you told me, right? Such defects are often hereditary... I managed to fix the error in your genetic record, so it won't be passed on to your children," he explained. "Does it sound too complex?"

She shook her head. "No, I understand you, Doctor. But I still find it hard to believe... that something like that is possible," she whispered. "You're a god..."

"Madame, it's not true," he interrupted her; he didn't like to be called a god. "I just... have such abilities. I wasn't born with them, they were bestowed on me later. And those skills enable me to conduct specific treatment. Apart from this one thing, I'm a man like everyone."

She slowly nodded, although she didn't seem convinced. "I wasn't even aware when you cured me..." she said, somewhat perplexed.

"I use to perform my surgeries when the patient is asleep, if only possible," he replied, smiling slightly, and then rose. "Madame, take care of yourself and the baby. I hope we'll never see each other again... at least not in this hospital," he added the words he always used when parting with his patients.

"If it's a boy, may I name him after you, Doctor?" she asked suddenly, not that she was the first to do so.

He shook his head. "Name them as you wanted yourself, Madame. It's your baby, and your husband's. You two decide together. I've interfered with your pregnancy enough," he said with a wry smile.

"Do you have children, Doctor?" came another question, and this one he hadn't expected.

"I have no family," he answered. "Now I must go."

"It's a pity," she replied, although he didn't know which of his comments she related to, not that he planned to ask. The woman got up from her chair and put both hands on her belly. Her pregnancy was at early stage and wasn't visible yet. "Thank you, Doctor. Thank you for everything... and for coming here today." She smiled brightly, and that smile was the best gratification for Law.

He raised his hand, then turned away and left; he still had much work to do. Nevertheless, he didn't regret coming here. He would be a liar if he claimed that he didn't care about the patients' gratitude. What he did, he did for other people. When they got better thanks to his treatment... Of course he was happy himself to see they were happy. And it wasn't just about doctor's satisfaction - could he really be particularly satisfied since he knew he could cure _anyone?_ \- only about being able to help others. He hoped he would never get into a rut... lose that ability to see his patients as respective people whom the Ope Ope no Mi returned lives to. Just like him... long ago.

Women he'd cured would often say they were going to name their sons after him... Well, it happened in every doctor's case. He sometimes wondered how many little Laws had been born over those ten years and so, but generally he tried not to think of it. On one hand, he understood that the patients felt obliged, but on the other hand... He would always repeat that they were their children and should get the names their parents wanted for them. Besides... he didn't find it right that anyone was named after him... Sure, he performed medical miracles and it could be that some of those children wouldn't have been born without his contribution, but for some reason he didn't think that Trafalgar Law was a good example... or a suitable patron of new life. Besides, he was of the opinion he didn't need any memorialising.

He spent the evening, like always, immersed in work, but when he went to bed after midnight he couldn't fall asleep. Usually, he was tired enough and dozed off immediately, but this time Ikkaku's words from the conversation they'd had today kept ringing in his head and driving away sleep. In the end, he got up and went onto the balcony, hoping that the night air would make wonders and help him relax. He rested his elbows on the railing and stared in the darkness. The wind was lightly moving his hair. The ocean's black sheet was spreading before him, and the myriads of stars were blinking on the navy blue sky. It was the full moon, even though Law couldn't see it, for it was hanging behind his back and behind the building.

He started his fortieth year of life. He had long since stopped being amazed that his existence had been miraculously extended when he'd believed he wouldn't even live to be fourteen. Yet he'd been given back his life and health, and he'd even received something that had showed him the way he should follow. And yet Ikkaku said it shouldn't be like that... She suggested he would one day wish he'd chosen differently. He didn't think it to be so. He didn't feel he lacked something, not anymore. Before, many years ago... he'd often felt that way. He'd lacked family. He'd lacked time. He'd lacked hope. Then, he'd lacked the man who'd managed to fill that emptiness in his life, just for a short while. Then, he'd lacked the vengeance.

But after he'd settled on Raftel and created the Corazon Memorial Hospital, he'd abandoned the thoughts of what he'd lost, knowingly embracing what he'd gain. He felt glad and fulfilled. Every day, he managed to restore smile to other people's faces and break the shackles of fate that restrained them - how should he be not happy about it? He was probably the happiest man in the world... and extremely privileged, too.

And yet Ikkaku's words, "Will you be content one year from now, too?" wouldn't leave him be. Did she relate to the famous midlife crisis? As if turning forty, he might suddenly feel disappointed, looking at his own achievements from another perspective... He would laugh at that suggestion, but some part of him _was_ anxious. He'd told Ikkaku that everything was fine... that she shouldn't worry about him... but now he started to wonder if it really was so. However, no matter how much he racked his brain, he just couldn't imagine his life to change. Many changes in how he'd related to others had happened during those nearly four decades. There was time when he'd rejected everything and everybody, finding strength in hateful solitude. There was time when he'd managed to despairingly love again, abandoning all barriers. There was time when he'd decided to lean on others, accepting them into his life but never letting them close. That last phase was still going on; Law had allowed it to grow into him, assumed it as his other skin and then stopped noticing it.

He couldn't end it; he couldn't shake if off, just like that. This way of being stuck to him, and he could do nothing about it. He was able to modify any part of his body, but it was beyond him to change human personality, intellectual and emotional patterns. Over those ten, twenty years he'd met hundreds... no, thousands of people, and no-one could make him become emotionally involved. And the problem wasn't in those people, but in his attitude. However, he didn't consider it to be some kind of lack, like Ikkaku suggested - he rather accepted it as natural... at least so far. Should it change? Should he regard it from another point of view? But even if he did, could he do anything about it? No; would he _want_ to do anything about it?

All in all, he didn't reach any conclusion, he only felt childishly angry with Ikkaku for messing with his head. However, the fresh air did its job, and he finally began to yawn. When he returned to bed, he felt asleep at once.

* * *

His plan to avoid Ikkaku for a while went up in flames as soon as the next day. He was really unlucky to run into her two days in row... When she walked to his table with the tray, he wanted to get up and return to work... but since he'd just started his meal, it would be only stupid, and Trafalgar Law rarely did stupid things. Then, he prepared himself for another dose of wisdom - for the whole morning he'd managed not to think of what he'd heard yesterday from her - yet this time, much to his surprise, their conversation started differently.

"Law, I must apologise to you," Ikkaku said outright, just as she used to. "I said too much yesterday. Even if I worry about you, it's your life, and I have no right to meddle and lecture you."

"I couldn't sleep because of you last night," he replied half-jokingly, without even trying to refrain from being mean.

"I'm sorry..." she repeated, somewhat gloomy, and started to eat.

For some reason, Law felt worse. He lowered his eyes and occupied himself with the meal, too. Her words from yesterday returned to him again, regardless of how much he tried to forget them.

"You know, Law, you've changed," came from Ikkaku, and now he could hear her smiling. "Before, you would just tell me off... That's why we always tried to avoid making any personal comments, even when you had a hard time."

He nodded, still staring at his plate.

"Ah, well... I don't know if 'change' is a right word here," she added. "Maybe it's just about the internal growth..."

"You changed too," Law muttered under his breath. "Before, you couldn't tell me anything nice..."

She sniggered. "Apparently we both grew up," she replied cheerfully. "And I think it's a good thing."

He didn't comment. They kept eating in silence, and then Law, almost involuntarily, asked, "What do you think I lack?" He couldn't stop thinking of it. And even if Ikkaku would probably end the topic with her apology, he felt that matter wouldn't leave him be until he became really upset. If he'd learned anything during those years, it was to ask straight instead of agonising over it alone and wondering what the other person had really meant.

Ikkaku gave him an astonished look; he didn't know whether he'd surprised her with that question or she considered it foolish... Well, he didn't plan to ask about _that_. She put the cutlery down and seemed to consider her response; her gaze was focused now.

"Someone you could love," she finally said.

He almost hunched, although unconsciously he'd expected those words... and feared them. "Oi, oi... The 'Surgeon of Death' and 'love'?" he asked mockingly, hoping to turn it into a joke.

"Don't come a fool, Law," she replied flatly, aiming the knife at him. "Even with the Ope Ope no Mi you're just a normal man. Besides... what 'Surgeon of Death'? I haven't heard it in ages. Can it be that you miss old good pirate times, hmm?" she suggested before she resumed eating.

"Don't you try to diagnose me, okay? If I need psychoanalysis, I'll go to Clione," he retorted, though he wasn't really mad. "And no, I don't miss them. I'm perfectly happy with what I have now."

"Okay, okay," she said amicably. "Me neither. Sure, those times had theirs charm, but in retrospect I see them rather as an adventure for the young. But going back to the matter... I told you yesterday that work is not all. Maybe someone who doesn't know you might consider you a person who doesn't need anything else but medicine to be happy, but _I_ know you. And even if I may sound like Clione again, I think you're someone of great emotional capacity. Even you must have loved someone once, right?"

Law said nothing, he only stared at her intently, not that she seemed to expect his answer. Her words stirred something in him, something he'd almost forgotten, but he didn't want to think of it now. He drank tea from the mug, still looking at her as she finished her meal. He knew where that point of view came from. Ikkaku had a family, her husband worked as a nurse on the paediatric ward, and they children already went to school. Ikkaku was a very good doctor, but she didn't spend more time at work than needed. Home life meant a lot to her. Of course she viewed the matter from that perspective.

He tried to imagine himself in a similar situation. If he placed a limit on his work hours - purely hypothetically, for he'd never considered to do so - and found some time for so called private life... there was still one problem. "What was before no longer matters," he said in a calm, composed voice. "How do you know I could still...?"

Ikkaku shrugged. "Why not?"

"You said you know me, but in fact... You don't know many things of me," he replied in the same emotionless tone.

"I think that you just don't give yourself a chance. You don't try," she said cautiously and then, apparently torn between urge to be honest and nice, added quickly, "Don't be mad at me."

"I'm not mad," he replied shortly... and knew he could stop at that, but something made him continue, "What else?"

She looked at him closely, as if she wanted to make sure he really wished to know her opinion. He wasn't sure of it himself, but apparently some part of his personality was.

"Well, I think that if you met other people than only patients and workmates, you would have a chance to find someone who would become close to you," Ikkaku finally said, and when she continued Law was amazed that people could really say such things to others. "In the best case, your fate would send you a whole hurricane of love that you wouldn't be able to resist. Love is just like that: it strikes when we expect it the least, and leaves us no choice. You can't protect yourself against it, can't reject it. It's as if someone decided for you... And I think that in your case it would be the best option, for you always try to put things under control and decide about everything."

He swore under his breath. After over twenty years of their friendship, Ikkaku knew him too well... and she was right about this particular matter, too. He really understood her point of view, knew that there was no error to her reasoning, only...

He shook his head, which she mistook for a refutation. "You think it's stupid? Hey, you asked my opinion," she said in a defensive manner.

"It's not that, I just... It's hard to imagine that someone like that... should suddenly appear in my life," he replied in a soft voice.

"Why not?" she asked.

"My fate never favoured me," he stated bitterly, somehow admitting he wished things went just like she'd described them.

"You're exaggerating," she responded flatly. "I'm of the opinion that everyone of us has someone waiting for them. Think of it, even Boa Hancock, the greatest enemy of men, went down with a disease called love when someone who turned her life upside-down appeared. And now she's so happy with our Pirate King..."

"You know, I don't think I want someone to turn my life upside-down..." he muttered.

She raised her thin eyebrows in astonishment. "Really?" she asked ironically. "And I think it's exactly what you need... Law, you're the most intelligent person I've ever met, but in this case it's not a compliment, for no-one uses their brain to fall in love. If you keep approaching everything rationally and with need to control it, then you really have meagre perspectives for spending the rest of your life with something else than your work," she said coldly. Then, however, her gaze softened a bit, and she shook her head. "But it's just how I think. You know the best what is in your heart... you know yourself better. Maybe it's not like it seems to me... And maybe I said something you didn't want to hear, again," she added with a wry smile.

He wondered about her words, finishing his tea. "You're partly right," he finally answered in a reluctant voice, putting the mug down.

"And partly not...?"

He shook his head and got up. "In any case, at least _today_ I'm going to spend my life with my work," he said with a slight irony, curving his lips. "But don't apologise to me, it feels odd," he added before admitting, "No, it was a good talk. I'll think about it."

"I hope it won't take away your sleep," she replied with some confusion.

He nodded and went to his afternoon business.

He really thought it to be a good conversation, even though it'd filled him with discomfort. No, it wasn't that; rather, it had prompted him to reflection he didn't want. Well, he didn't plan to dwell into it _now_ \- consultations awaited him - but he knew that Ikkaku's words would return to him in the evening. On his way to the lecture room, however, he recalled something else she'd said: that he'd changed, for now people could be straight with him. He wasn't sure if it really was so. True, contrary to the past time, nowadays his former crew members could be frank with him. Not that before they'd risked him to be mad or angry with them; Law had never been someone to be mad or angry with others... he just became irritated and replied in a witty way, and Bepo would say he sulked, which efficiently discouraged others from such interpersonal candour... Then, maybe it was that everyone had 'grown up', if they'd stopped to tiptoe around him or walk on eggshells...?

He smiled at that thought, only to became serious again the next moment. Former crew was his former crew, and he'd spent twenty-five years with some of them, like Ikkaku, but knew all too well that for other people - those he'd met as a doctor, not a pirate - he remained that uptight and unapproachable person. Sure, his inclination for keeping others at a distance, mixed with abilities of the Ope Ope no Mi, that in eyes of many people made him a god, wasn't in favour of familiarity. In many cases, such an image suited him well, but now he mused over its negatives...

For example those two hours of consultation. A young doctor from paediatrics who participates in the session for the first time is presenting a case that she has a problem with... as with this whole situation: her voice is trembling, her hands are shaking. She drops her notes and hardly manages to catch the medical record she'd threw down from the table. She blushes, stutters more and more, and seems to be at the verge of tears, although she does all she can to finish her report. Law would love to calm her down with Ikkaku's words, 'Hey, I'm a human, _I'm just a human like you,'_ but he knows that something like that would distress the young woman even more, so he leaves that remark unspoken and merely answers her questions in a medical language. In fact, this situation isn't pleasant for him either, for he doesn't want to be someone to strike terror into others or command overegged respect. He decides to ask Kaya to talk to that resident and make her understand that Trafalgar Law doesn't eat less experienced doctors alive.

Then, a young doctor from orthopaedics. A big guy, taller than Law and much brawnier, he will be a good surgeon... once he learns to focus on important things. Now, every few sentences, he keeps repeating useless phrases like, 'But it doesn't really matter in this case,' or, 'I'm sorry I mentioned it,' or, 'I unnecessarily take your time, Doctor, you don't want to hear about it.' He sweats, nervously runs his hands through his hair, he's close to swearing. It is the other, more experienced doctors who are annoyed, not Law, who can only, in a calm voice, ask him to continue, and wonders if that young medic is so needlessly hypersensitive when talking with his supervising doctor, too.

Law knew he'd changed, and it'd happened partly involuntarily and partly consciously. As a doctor, he uses to smile more often than he had as a pirate, and with a genuine smile, not that elaborate sneer. Nowadays, he experiences more positive emotions than before, when he'd focused on his loss and tragedy, resented his destiny and yearned for vengeance. He tries to show more kindness to others, for he really feels it. Whenever he is ironic, it happens only with those who know him well, and expresses his sense of humour, not a real wish to hurt. He never shows disregard to the less experienced doctors - he doesn't feel it - and he behaves in the manner that tells the staff members that he will always find time for them... if not at once, then a bit later. Regardless of his workload, he is patient. He returns the doctors', nurses' and porters' greetings in the corridors. He eats in the canteen, and everyone is free to sit by his table. He makes it understand that he can be told anything. He wants to remove all stupid barriers between himself and the others - except for that single one that protects him: that barrier to never let others close on the emotional level. He wants, just like Ikakku had said, to be like others.

In vain. No matter how he tries, most people treat him with awe that makes any informalities impossible. They respect him, admire him, are grateful to him... and see him as someone better. Someone who can't be bothered with trivial matters. Someone who focuses solely on medicine and won't be interested with anything else. Someone who is destined for other things than those mundane, human ones. Nurses never speak to him, and they turn silent when he enters the room. Residents bow to him in the corridors and tremble when making a report. Other doctors, when they go out for a drink after work, never invite him to their company. It's easy to conclude that there is something in people like him - in their character - that keeps others at bay, regardless of his own efforts. He has yet to reach the stage that it will start to bother him, but he senses it will happen one day anyway. He had once admitted to need other people, and he's not going to run away from that realisation.

On the other hand, he decided, walking to his office, it wasn't that he hadn't earned that image himself. At least one thing that Ikkaku had mentioned was true: that he focused solely on medicine. If people didn't want to bother him, believing he wouldn't be interested, it wasn't because they imagined that themselves, but because he'd behaved exactly that way. He tried to look at his life from someone else's point of view - it was difficult, and something inside him protested to do so - and quickly reached the conclusion that his way of living was totally inhuman.

However, he knew such was the price for having the Ope Ope no Mi... No, he winced inwardly, it wasn't the right word. It was something more intrinsic, more instinctive. The Ope Ope no Mi was a part of his life, he'd accepted it into himself on the emotional level, too, and had decided to use it to the best of its abilities. What he did was the only option... the only one he accepted. If he'd scheduled his work - like, from eight AM to eight PM - he would've considered it unethical. There was already more ill people in the world that he could save, so it was important that he did all he could to help those he could. No-one could replace him, no-one would be able take care of his work so that he could take a day off. It was obvious he had to work as much as possible.

No, it wasn't the day that he could tell himself 'enough', he decided, entering his office. On one hand, he hoped such day would never come... but some part of him, some stubborn voice deep in his mind repeated Ikakku's words, 'You may regret it.' He forced himself to not listen to it.

In the evening, after he'd admitted all new patients, Bepo paid him an unexpected visit. "Have a moment to spare?" he asked from the door, looking around the office as if he wanted to make sure he didn't interrupt anything.

"Sure," Law replied, opening the window and letting the sound of waves inside.

Bepo came closer to his desk. "I'd like you to have a look at the patient I just admitted, anytime soon."

Law raised his eyebrows. Bepo rarely asked such things. Judging from his words, it wasn't anything urgent... "What's wrong with them?" he asked.

"It's a boy, eleven... no, twelve years old. He lives on the neighbouring island, his mother brought him here. He tripped and got a multiple fracture of wrist," Bepo said. "The thing is, it's already the third time that he's here this year, and previous ones were due to the fractures, too. They were too complicated for the local doctor, and the boy was sent to us." Law frowned but kept listening. "Well, it's normal that the boys break their bones, so we just gave him a surgery and sent home, but now he's here again. I ordered more extensive diagnostics this time, but hormonal tests are within the norm, as is bone density... Everything is normal actually. I don't know, maybe I'm overthinking it, but really I suspect some serious process. But we can't find anything, so could you scan him with your X-ray vision?"

"I don't have any X-ray vision," Law replied, trying not to roll his eyes. "You say he tripped? No indication of intentional mutilation?"

"No. He says he was just playing football with friends, but he tripped and broke his hand. There are no signs that he fell victim to violence. No bruises, and he doesn't act like someone who's been beaten. A normal, lively kid."

Law patted his finger on the desk. "What about his mother? What kind of impression did you get from her?" he asked.

"Normal," Bepo answered. "At least, she doesn't appear as someone who could hurt her own child, if that's what you imply. She's distressed and anxious. I think they come from some poor family, it's just her and the boy."

"A single mother...?"

"What's wrong with that?" Bepo asked.

Law was silent for a moment before he spoke again. "Have Clione send someone to talk with her."

"You suspect Munchausen syndrome?" the mink guessed. "I'm really not sure..."

"Just in case," Law replied calmly but firmly, and Bepo nodded. "What's the situation on paediatric surgery? Are they going to operate tomorrow?"

"I think so."

"Fine. I'll see him tomorrow or, at the latest, the day after tomorrow," Law promised. "In the meantime, make genetic tests, too. There's probably no need for magnetic resonance...? X-ray didn't show any indications of neoplasm or metastasis, right?"

"Nothing. Ah, his bones are in small pieces, but it still looks just like a normal fracture, with no changes in the tissue. I checked the previous pictures, no osteosclerosis or osteolysis. But we'll do that genetic tests, though it'll take some time."

Law nodded. "Once I check him, I'll make further orders."

"I hope I bothered you for nothing," Bepo said, and Law knew what he meant.

"Me too," he replied, and the corners of his lips twitched.

The mink smiled at him and left.

Law spent a moment, thinking of this case, before he remembered that tomorrow he would operate on a girl suffering from osteogenesis imperfecta. Until recently, it had been incurable disease... Well, actually, it was still incurable, unless the patient came to Trafalgar Law. He'd admitted that kid today: a four-year old girl who was much shorter than she should because of the pathological deformation of the spinal column. She had typical symptoms: triangular face, blue sclera, and hearing disorders, and yet she'd laughed at him even though she couldn't walk. Apart from 'straightening' all deformities, treatment procedure was based on modification of collagen, the main building protein of the connective tissue, as it was defective in this particular disease. It was a time-consuming surgery - and possible only because of the Ope Ope no Mi. This particular type wasn't the most severe and some people could live long, albeit with disability; other forms led to death in infancy or even before birth.

Law pushed away the thought he couldn't help all people needing the Ope Ope no Mi. Everyday all around the world, there died patients who hadn't managed to come to the Corazon Memorial Hospital. At some point, he'd used to torment himself with it, but now, after all those years, he could accept that fact. He had curing abilities, but he wasn't omnipotent. And that was why he had to do all he could to help those he could help. His own thoughts from a few hours ago seemed a total rubbish now. He should limit his work and the amount of patients? It would be immoral, and Trafalgar Law had committed too much evil and cruel deeds already; at present, he wanted to live according to his conscience.

In any case, with time he'd learned to enjoy what he _could_ do, instead of beating himself up about how many ill people he hadn't managed to save. That he devoted his all time to work, not futile games, also helped. And thus, now he inhaled deeply salt-tasting air and took to making a plan for tomorrow. First, there were two adults with very malignant tumours; then he would operate on that girl. He knew her treatment would take several hours, but he would be satisfied with the final effect. Then, there was an infant with a rare disease of the nervous system that usually led to death before the baby turned two. He also had a patient poisoned by some unknown toxin and another with a severe infection.

Once he put the day into schedule, he immersed himself into the details of those patients, occasionally adjusting the glasses on his nose. That Trafalgar Law, of all people, used glasses was somewhat comical, but there were reasons for it. Correcting the sight defect would take him a few seconds, and yet he'd decided to leave it be. He'd already modified his organism too much - only he knew how much - in order to give it endurance needed in his work. From biological point of view, he'd long ceased to be a normal human. Using glasses slightly soothed the knowledge how much he differed from others, and he needed them only for reading, for curing via the Ope Ope no Mi didn't engage his vision anyway. Then, the glasses had become his attribute, and according to Bepo, made him look more dignified. Had it been anyone else in question, Law would think it to be a joke... but Bepo didn't use to say things he didn't believe in, then probably he was right.

Once he decided he knew everything he should know about the patients, he performed a simulation of all surgeries in his mind. Some he had to devise from scratch, but others - like treatment of the girl with osteogenesis imperfecta - he had recorded in his memory. Thanks to the modification of his nervous system, he had perfect memory in which he used to 'store' all previous procedures. All it took was to 'reach' and find a specific record. Still, he never based on them without thinking, for he knew well that every patient was a different case and could always surprise him. He had to be prepared for that. Sometimes he had to change his strategy mid-operation, but the Ope Ope no Mi always showed him the right way.

When he finished, it was around midnight. He stretched in his chair and then went on the balcony. The sky was clouded, the wind was blowing cold and gusty. The waves were breaking on the shore loudly. No gulls were to be heard today, and Law, who had spent most of his life at sea, knew the storm was coming. The weather condition didn't affect the Corazon Memorial Hospital, for its solid construction was able to resist the elements. Own engine generator made it independent of external power sources. Transport of the patients happened mostly underwater, so neither storm nor calm disturbed it. The only thing that should be considered, was that the violent weather phenomena could cause accidents and thus produce new patients. Well, that was why they had an emergency unit here and the hospital itself worked day and night.

Law stayed at the balcony, breathing in the salty air and listening to the waves. He remembered what he'd told Ikkaku today: that he didn't miss the pirate life. It was true: he didn't wish to go back to times when he travelled the seas, first planning his revenge to bring justice and then heading for Raftel to start his atonement - in this particular form he'd imagined years before. Time flew, and it was sometimes hard to believe it had been thirteen years already since he'd settled on the Pirate King's island and devoted himself to medicine.

He frowned upon suddenly realising something he hadn't noticed before. He winced at the idea, deciding it was merely a pure coincidence, but once it'd occurred to him, he just couldn't drive it away. His life could be divided into three stages, each of them of exactly the same length. When thirteen years old, he'd got the Ope Ope no Mi and lost incomparably more. That was when his childhood had ended. When twenty-six, he'd finally executed revenge against the man who had hurt him more than anyone, and then had come to Raftel to realise his dream. That was when he'd closed his turbulent youth. The next thirteen years he'd spent here, curing those no-one else could cure - the greatest doctor in the history, the miracle-medic, the Surgeon of Life like some called him.

Now he was thirty-nine and... Was there some change coming again? He wasn't superstitious nor did he believe in destiny, he'd rather believe in nature and logic... but he could remember that once he'd met someone who'd defied the common sense, resisted the verdict of biology and gained the absolute victory even though he'd had to oppose the whole world and antagonised every possible power. He'd showed that sometimes rationalism was worth nothing and could be crushed by faith, hope... and love, as if it was destined. Then, maybe fate still had some surprise for Trafalgar D. Water Law...? Maybe something was about to happen that would turn his reality upside-down again...?

That thought met with his objection. He didn't want any changes; he enjoyed what he had now. He'd lost too much, for he'd been too weak to keep it by him... He couldn't lose this hospital that was his safe haven and gave him strength. It gave him sense and validate his existence. He wanted to stay here for ever, spend his days helping those who needed the Ope Ope no Mi. It was his final destination that he'd already reached and didn't mean to leave. If the destiny wanted to harm him again... he decided to fight. He'd once been a warrior; in a way, he'd remained one, for nowadays he fought with nature, biology, and death. If fate wanted to take away what was the very essence of his life, then he would fight. Now he was strong enough to protect what was important.

In fact, however, he didn't believe that any change might happen, even if the unlucky thirteen seemed to had stuck to him for good. Yawning, he closed the balcony door and went to bed. He fell asleep very soon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

When Law waked up the next morning, the storm was in full swing, although he could tell that only by the rain whipping the windowpanes. All windows in the Corazon Memorial Hospital were soundproof and so solid that the glass didn't vibrate even by the strongest wind. Bepo's presence in the canteen proved that the storm hadn't caused any harm yet. The head of the emergency unit was sitting over the porridge, which he ate slowly. Law had long since stopped making any comments about the early hour the mink waked up, for it would always lead to the matter of his own circadian rhythm; Bepo missed no occasion to point out that he slept more than his boss. It'd happened so many times so far that nowadays Law used to keep his tongue between his teeth upon seeing Bepo in the canteen at four AM. Besides, he had absolutely no satisfaction in the situation one could called only as, 'the pot called the kettle back,' even if he knew that Bepo, as a mink, was much more sensitive to the lack of sleep.

They didn't talk much today. Law only made sure that there was a quiet night on the emergency unit, and went to work as soon as his breakfast was over. Oncology ward was his initial destination, but then he had to spend some hours at the ward he'd rather not visit at all: paediatrics. He didn't really know, himself, why he didn't like kids - except for, of course, that they were loud and always asked strange questions. If he were forced to find a substantive answer it would probably be that children were weak and required to be taken care of. Adults could manage on their own and were responsible for their lives, but children couldn't survive alone. That was one of the reasons why Law hardly ever reminisced his childhood, for he remembered it as the time when he'd been at the mercy of others and couldn't protect important things. He'd turned adult soon enough to survive, but before that he wouldn't have lived without other's help. Working with children filled him with discomfort, and the fact that it was him, Trafalgar Law, who had their lives in his hands, didn't improve anything.

Time spent on treatment of two patients with malignancies passed too quickly, and soon Law headed for paediatrics. It was still early, and most kids were asleep, but he had no illusions about leaving here with his psyche intact. Treatment of the girl with osteogenesis imperfecta would take long enough for the rest of little patients to wake up. There was no help, though; Trafalgar Law was a doctor for anyone, and he didn't chose his patients according to his own comfort. He took a deep breath and pushed the doors to the children's ward.

Each department occupied one floor of the hospital and consisted of several sub-units. Doctors were sometimes amused by the fact that here the 'head of ward' meant 'boss of the level', like in prison, and they more often said, 'chief of five', than used long and boring, 'the head of the paediatrics'. This floor contained among others paediatric surgery and paediatric oncology. Contrary to other wards, the walls here were painted in the bright colours and decorated with many pictures and funny stickers. In the regular interval could be found the spots where the little patients could play if they were able, altough now the corridors were empty, and only the nurses on the night shift could be seen.

The patient rooms here were big enough to accommodate parents, too, as they often accompanied their children during hospitalisation. Parents could be present during the examination and minor procedures, but not during surgeries and the Ope Ope no Mi treatment. Nursing personnel would always receive Law's detailed schedule for the next day, so they could guide the child's mother or father somewhere else, for Law used to operate by the patients' bed.

That was why now, upon entering the room of the girl with osteogenesis imperfecta - her name was Aika - he didn't found anyone else, even though the girl's mother had been present during the admission yesterday. The girl was sleeping soundly, curled in an unnatural way due to the deformation of the vertebral column. It was probably the only sleeping position she knew. Law was aware that, in her case, surgery didn't mean the end of treatment; the little one would need a rehabilitation to be able to control her body anew. Straightening her spinal column alone meant the sudden change of a few centimetres in her height; it was obvious she would have to learn the motor coordination from the beginning. However, children learned such things in a flash, so half a year from now the girl would likely be running like she'd never been ill. And she was very young, so she probably wouldn't even remember her disease.

The procedure was arduous, for it always took more time to build and strengthen than remove, and this time Law worked on the molecular structure of the organ that filled the whole body and constituted around ten percent of its mass. Connective tissue was situated amongst all other tissues; it also formed bones, tendons, ligaments, and many other organs. Without it, a man would be a shapeless lump of muscles and brain, without a skeleton, skin and subcutaneous layer. The name 'osteogenesis imperfecta' didn't give the whole picture of illness, even though the bone manifestations were the most prominent; however, the problem lying in the centre of the disease was that the organism produced the defective collagen, the main building protein. It had to be repaired, all hundreds of millions of molecules. The Ope Ope no Mi could do it quickly. The surgery, however, wasn't just that; every organ that had developed on that deformed skeleton had to be modified. If Law repaired only collagen, Aika would die of pain since her organs would be suddenly stretched. The operation of the child with that disease meant the modification of the whole body, but Law knew it was worth it.

After he'd finished, the girl lying before him looked different than two hours ago. Her curvature was natural, her limbs longer, and her chest thinner. The girl's face, too, was different, rounder. If Aika opened her eyes, he would see their whites were no longer bluish. Upon her waking up, she would notice how easy it was to breathe. Yesterday, Law described to her mother what she should expect after the treatment was over. He knew that a mother would always recognise her child, but he'd still wanted to prepare her for a shock due to such a sudden and marked metamorphosis. However, humans possessed unusual power of adaptation, and Law had no doubts that Aika's mother would soon get used to her daughter's altered appearance.

The surgery of the infant he performed afterwards was much less demanding. Once he was done with it, it was light outside and the ward was bustling. When using the Ope Ope no Mi for treatment, Law cut himself off from every external stimulus, so when he deactivated his Devil Fruit now, light and sound hit him with all might. Yet, he was accustomed to it, and it took only a few seconds to return to the 'real world' again. He went to the corridor, telling the nurse that the surgery was over and the parents could go back to their child. It was nearly eight, and he should move to the operating room on the first floor; before, however, he wanted to have a look at the boy Bepo asked him to examine yesterday. He returned from the infant unit to where the older children were.

As soon as he opened the door, he had the questionable pleasure to closely encounter with the ball thrown by one of the healthier patients.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Director!" the nurse supervising the children's play called anxiously and picked the little culprit up.

He protested loudly, but his mother tended to him, apologising as well. Law lifted one hand in a reassuring manner, trying not to smile too crookedly. Three-years old rascal stared at him curiously, sticking his fingers into his mouth, while other children came closer.

"Are you a pirate, Doctor?" one of the boy blurted, caring little about the proprieties, just like kid used to.

"Birk, you're being impolite," his mother rebuked him. "You can't say such things."

"Why?" the boy's round eyes were filled with astonishment and resentment. "Pirates are heroes."

"Right, right!" the other children followed.

The women exchanged confused looks, unsure as to how react in this situation.

"The Pirate King sailed through all seas and helped people around the world. That's what they told me in school," another boy added and met with the enthusiastic cries.

"And I heard that the doctors in this hospital are pirates," Birk had resumed the previous topic, looking at Law closely. "It's the Pirate King's island, right?"

Some of the boys murmured in the affirmative.

"Doctor Kaya, too, is a pirate?" one of the girls asked anxiously, and two others looked like they were at the verge of tears.

Birk cast her a hesitant look. "Well... I don't know," he finally answered and then stared at Law again.

"No-one in this hospital is a pirate," Law replied, hiding his smile. "And Doctor Kaya has never been one, to begin with."

"And you?" the boy wasn't giving up.

"I used to be... long ago," Law admitted.

The boys looked at each other, their eyes sparkling, some of them put their hands in the air and cried of joy, and one called triumphantly, "Didn't I say?" The older girls kept staring at Law distrustfully, except for one who joined the boys, assumed the right pose and claimed she would become the Pirate King.

"Tell us about how you were a pirate," Birk asked, and the others backed him. "Did you have a ship?"

"Sure he had!" his friend scolded him. "Every pirate has a ship."

"Were you a captain?" the girl, the future Pirate King, asked.

"What was your jolly roger?" another boy inquired. "I think that... the skull and crossbones and stathoscope," he added, inspired.

"It's steroskope," Birk corrected him loftily.

Law swept the curious faces of the whole group with his gaze. The little patients were staring at him in anticipation... as were their mothers, although they could hide their excitement better. Such situations happen on a regular basis, and he had long since grown accustomed to them.

"I was a captain," he said. "But my jolly roger wasn't a skull and crossbones with a stethoscope... only this," he placed one finger on his white coat where was printed the former sign of the Heart Pirates, which was now the symbol of the Corazon Memorial Hospital.

"Why did you stop being a pirate?" came another question. "I would never stop, sailing the seas is great."

"I think that being a doctor is even greater."

"And why-"

"Enough, Tal. Doctor is busy," the boy's mother interrupted. "Come, we'll read your book about the pirates."

The boy was clearly disappointed, but he obediently took his mother's hand, and they headed for his room. The woman looked over her shoulder and bowed to Law. Other mothers followed her suit and occupied their children with conversation and games. Law, finally freed from the little patients' attention, went to the nurses. On his way, he wondered whether he too had got into the history books... He hoped he hadn't. It was enough that the school kids were taught about Luffy...

The nurses told him where to find the boy he'd promised Bepo to examine, he was also given the medical record. He browsed through the test results, but, just like the mink had said, there was nothing off. According to the chart, the boy was called Rosapelo, which sounded more like a girl's name, but the patient was undoubtedly male. When Law entered the room, he found there also the boy's mother, or so he believed, judging from their obvious resemblance, sitting by his bed. The boy was half-lying, half-sitting quietly, his right hand in a provisional cast to secure his fracture until the operation. Both he and the woman had light brown hair and intensely blue eyes, although the boy's were a bit darker.

Law closed the door. "I'm Trafalgar Law," he introduced himself. "I came to examine Rosapelo-"

"Pelo," the boy interrupted him. "That's how everyone calls me," he explained the next moment, probably realising he was being rude. "Rosapelo sounds like a girl," he muttered and lowered his eyes.

"Pelo, then," Law corrected and came closer. "You may stay, Madame," he added when the boy's mother got up, as if she wanted to leave.

"Trafalgar Law..." she repeated, somewhat distant, sitting down on her chair again. Then her gaze sharpened when she apparently realised who he was. "Hospital Director," she added in a softer voice, and anxiety crept onto her face.

Law spoke before she managed to continue. "No need to fear. The doctor who admitted Pelo yesterday, asked me to examine your son, Madame." Again, he looked at the boy, who, in turn, was staring at him as closely. "I heard it's the third time you're in our hospital. You tripped and broke your arm, right? Could you tell me how it happened?"

The boy nodded. "I played football and tripped. And my hand began to hurt. I had fractures before, so I knew it happened again now," he said in a crisp voice, looking Law in the eye.

Just like Bepo had said, he didn't appear as someone who had been intentionally hurt; he was only a bit pale, but overall he seemed quite healthy. It was very easy to imagine him running the sports field only yesterday.

"And now? Is it painful?"

"A bit," the boy replied reluctantly.

Law called the nurse and ordered to give the boy a new dose of painkiller. He waited that the boy took the pill, and resumed examination. "You said you tripped during the game...? Someone ran into you and pushed you?"

The boy shook his head. "No, I just... fell. I tripped."

"Someone tripped you up? Or maybe you lost your balance on the ball? Or was it slippery?"

Another negation. "No, it was before it started to rain. I just..." Pelo looked down. "I fell."

"Did you feel faint?" Law kept asking the questions. "Dizzy?"

The boy gave him a hesitant look and once again shook his head. "No."

"And you were conscious all the time?"

"Yes."

"What about those previous fractures? Do you remember how you got them?"

"The first happened when I tripped on the stairs and broke my leg, under my left knee. The other... on my way to school. It was this hand, too, but here," he pointed at his forearm.

"And that time no-one pushed you either? Nor did you fall over anything?"

"Just like now," the boy replied, nodding.

Law mused. His first conclusion was that _two_ problems could be in question: one concerning bones and the other related to the nervous system. Fracture resulting from falling down the stairs was acceptable, but it was no longer normal that a twelve-year-old kid broke his arm upon falling to the ground. The tests showed that the boy's bone density was within the norm, yet Law knew it didn't make the fractures impossible - it only excluded some diseases. But why the boy kept tripping? It couldn't be epilepsy, since he remembered everything, and besides there was no pathology in his EEG. Did he suffer from some kind of balance disorders or spells of ataxia, so short that he didn't notice them himself?

Law focused his eyes on the little patient, who was staring at him with his blue eyes. "How do you feel?" he asked. "Pain has eased?"

"Yes."

"Is it anything serious, Doctor?" the boy's mother asked.

Anxiety was still visible in her eyes, but no deceit. That woman seemed to read Law's presence as a sign that some dangerous or incurable disease was in question, not as if she were scared that Law would see through her possible game. Law decided that his concern from yesterda: that she could have contributed to the boy's illness, was premature.

"Madame, did you often see Pelo trip?" he asked.

"In last few weeks, yes," she admitted. "But not before."

Law turned to his patient again. "Pelo, did you grow up recently?" he asked just in case; the boy still had a frame of a child. "Sometimes when teenage boys suddenly start to grow up, it takes a while before they get accustomed to their new height. For some weeks or even months, they have to put up with the feeling their arms and legs are too long, and it's hard to move normally."

The boy, however, shook his head, as did his mother.

"Okay. In that case I must examine you. It won't be painful," he announced. "You're not going to feel anything at all. ROOM."

He surrounded the boy and himself with the sphere of another dimension and looked into his organism with his Ope Ope no Mi vision. One of the most useful function of his Devil Fruit was that it drew the user's attention to every pathological process in the body of the examined person; now, too, the first thing Law 'saw' was the inflammatory zone around the right wrist. He looked closely at the bone tissue but didn't find anything abnormal. The boy's bones were of a healthy structure, as were his joints and muscles. Circulatory and respiratory systems were working properly. There was nothing untypical in the nerves and brain tissue either; he thoroughly examined cerebellum and extrapyramidal system as they were responsible for the equilibrium and muscle tone. Everything was in perfect order, he had no doubt about it. There was still one option: he was dealing with a disease that hadn't caused any pathological changes so far, but he found it microscopical. At present, there was nothing in the boy's organism that could be cured with the Ope Ope no Mi, and if he trusted anything in this world, it was his Devil Fruit.

"There's nothing wrong with your organism," he said after the examination was over.

Pelo stared at him in disbelief. "So soon?" he asked, frowning, and cast his mother a furtive look.

"Doctor Law has such skills," she explained and stroke his tousled hair. Her relief was obvious.

Law smiled lightly. "Just think that I have an X-ray vision," he stated. "Listen, Pelo. I scanned your body for anomalies but didn't find any. We feared that your frequent fractures might result from some disease, but it seems that you were just unlucky. We must hope that you've already spent your share of misfortune. Our surgeons are going to put your wrist together today, and soon you will be able to go home."

"Thank you, Doctor," the boy's mother said. "Really, thank you. I hope it's the last time we are here," she added with a shy smile.

Law was almost ashamed of his suspicions from the previous day. That woman clearly cared for her child, it could be seen in her gestures and reactions. Nevertheless, he knew that they could never be too careful; until now, they'd had several cases of Munchausen syndrome, a disorder when a parent either fabricated their child's symptoms or made them fall ill in order to extort examination and hospitalisation. Single mothers whose life concentrated on their offspring, were the risk group... but that woman with light brown hair and blue eyes wasn't one of them.

Law wrote 'Examined with OOnM, no pathology, no further examination' in the patient record, ending with a doodle that was his signature, and took his leave. It seemed that this time Bepo had 'bothered him for nothing', indeed. It was good.

In the corridor he bumped into Kaya - or, rather, she bumped into him. Well, he couldn't blame her; he'd appeared right before her, and she'd had no time to stop. He grabbed her by her arms before she fell.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, then raised her head and saw him. "Director Law...!"

A light blush covered her cheeks, but there was no embarrassment in her smile, only pure sympathy. It was mutual. Everyone in this hospital admired Kaya, both staff and the patients, for her very presence could raise people's spirits.

"I didn't know you were still here," she said. "I can hardly ever catch you."

"Bepo asked me to have a look at the boy he'd admitted yesterday," he explained.

"And I'm on my way from that girl you operated today," she informed, tucking some hair behind her ear. "It's the third case already, and I'm still deeply impressed. You gave her a new body! The Ope Ope no Mi never ceases to amaze me. How you use it is a mastery. Thank you for what you do for those children," she added sincerely.

"You do no less than I," he replied. "I'm of the opinion that doctors without any supernatural powers deserve much more credit. Everything's fine on the ward? Do you have enough beds?"

"We manage somehow," she answered, and her smile reached her eyes. "But don't let me keep you any longer. I start a round in a minute, too. Have a nice day!" she said, then nodded and went to the nurses.

Law followed her slender figure with his eyes before resuming his walk. Just like he'd told the boys before, even though many doctors in this hospital had used to be pirates, Kaya had never been one of them. Yet, that petite woman had strength of a warrior, and she was much more complex person than it seemed at the first sight. She was delicate and tender, and her fair complexity and blond hair along with her gentle disposition only contributed to the ethereal impression she made. To her patients, she seemed a real angel, always patient, always caring and filled with a need to help, but that angel had great organisational skills, too. Despite young age - she had just turned thirty - Kaya managed the whole paediatric department of the Corazon Memorial Hospital and did it perfectly. Her ward had the highest satisfaction rate among the personnel and was considered the best workplace in the hospital.

Law knew that Kaya had once wanted to be a surgeon, but his personal opinion was that her present specialisation was much better choice. It wasn't about her being a woman - as surgery demanded a physical strength, she was too frail to perform major operations - but about the fact she loved children and always put their welfare first. Because of that, she constantly raised qualifications, both her own and her workers', and inspired the students and residents. She also had natural skills of handling children and greatly developed medical intuition, and she always knew what to do. All in all, she was the right person in the right place.

Law recollected the times when the Corazon Memorial Hospital had just started functioning. Usopp had introduced his then fiancée to him, as she'd wished to work in the unique clinic on Raftel. Kaya had looked like a teenage girl, making it hard to believe she'd been a full-fledged doctor already. Her eyes, however, had been filled with determination, and the short conversation had convinced Law that, hiring her, he would only gain. He'd entrusted her with managing the paediatric floor and hadn't regretted it even once during the next ten years.

He took the elevator to the first level. It seemed that the storm was over, although the day continued to be cloudy. Well, Law hardly ever went outside - actually, his only contact with the fresh air happened on the balcony of his office - and thus he cared little about the weather. He knew, however, that most people were affected by the external conditions. Long ago, he'd used to be like them, and even now he would sometimes experience that long forgotten feeling of irritation on the winter days. He remembered that in his younger years snow could made him upset and disturb his concentration.

Penguin and Shachi were ready for the operation. When still in the corridor, he heard their talk, strangely fitting the topic he'd just pondered on.

"I tell you, always the same bad luck," Shachi complained. "Lilja has free evening today, and the kids stays in her mother's place. We planned a picnic on the beach and a romantic cruise around the bay under the stars, and now the weather is terrible."

"They forecasted that storm for two days already," Penguin noticed.

"Aren't we wise, now? The shift list is made one month in advance. It's not like she can have a free day when it happens to be sunny. Spare yourself such comments," Shachi scolded him.

"You can never tell in autumn. No point in assuming the weather will be great. Instead of a picnic, take her to the All Baratie, and for the cruise... Go to the cinema," Penguin suggested. "At least she won't be cold. Women don't like to be cold," he stressed. "Maybe that will make her put on some dress and high heels instead of an oiler and wellies. You can have picnics in the summer, as much as you want."

Shachi muttered something under his breath, but without his earlier exasperation; he apparently considered the suggestion. When Law entered the room, the redhead was already wearing a dreamy expression; no doubt he was imagining his wife in a dress. Penguin had to nudge him in order to stop those pleasant visions and call him back to the present. After all, they were at work and had things to do.

The surgeries went without any complication and were finished in due time. Going for lunch, Law was pretty hungry already. He filled his plate with a nice amount of rice with chicken and salad... and then bumped into Kaya again. Thanks to his reflexes, the trays filled with the dishes were saved.

"I'm sorry!" she called, and he sniggered.

"Apparently, we must bump into each other today."

They took a table by the window. The day outside was dull; the sky and the sea were merged into one blur of grey. The canteen, however, was warm and pleasant. Law eagerly began eating.

"I was thinking about what you told me this morning," Kaya said, pushing away the empty salad plate. "That normal doctors deserve more credit... Do you really think so?"

Law gave her an astonished look and then nodded. "It makes more sense," he replied. "What I do is mostly the act of the Ope Ope no Mi. Other doctors use their own medical skills."

"But you are able to use the Ope Ope no Mi exactly because you have an outstanding medical knowledge," Kaya pointed out. "I don't think eating the Ope Ope no Mi automatically made you a great doctor, right?"

"It still doesn't mean that I should be overly proud of myself," he replied.

"I'm not talking about being overly proud," she objected. "Rather... it seems to me you don't value yourself much, even though we all admire you."

Law ate in silence, giving her an intent look. Kaya drank some water and resumed eating, but soon she spoke again. "Miria... That is, that resident who was on your consultations yesterday... I talked to her, just like you'd asked me. She said something that got me thinking, and your words of today match it in a disturbing way, too. She said, 'Doctor Law is quite different from how I imagined him. I thought he would be mad at me because I was so nervous and could barely speak. Actually, I'd _feel_ better if he were mad at me. But he only calmly asked his questions and answered mine. Afterwards, I felt even worse. Someone like him, the greatest doctor of our times, should be more bossy and pummel wimps of my kind into submission right away. He shouldn't sit on the platform and pretend to be a normal human, like us'."

Instead of standing like a lecturer in a pulpit, Law used to take a chair; sometimes, he even sat down cross-legged on the desk, facing the participants. He did it to remove barriers between other doctors and himself, and now he learned that something like that wasn't welcome. Well, no-one could accommodate everyone; that truth was as old as time.

"Of course, we don't want you to be arrogant," the head of the paediatric department went on. "But there's a great difference between being arrogant and valuing yourself. After Miria's words, I started to think of the image of you I had in my head. And the longer I thought, the stronger impression I had that you don't think of yourself as someone exceptional, but also consider yourself... an extra to the Ope Ope no Mi. A person of no significance as a human being..." she said in a quiet voice, pensive. Then she started and looked up. "I'm sorry I said such things. I didn't want to insult you, while it could sound like that."

Law reached for his tea and drank it, silent. He hadn't expected to hear from her, that delicacy incarnate, such a thing, but it didn't mean he felt offended. Even though she was wrong.

"If it helps," he finally spoke, "I like my job very much, and I'm glad to be able to help others. I wanted to be a doctor as a kid already... No, I _intended_ to be one, didn't imagine myself do anything else. I'm happy I can follow this profession... and I'm happy to have the Ope Ope no Mi, that makes me cure the ill so well."

"You know, you haven't really answered my guess...?" he said, and her gaze was very focused.

"I haven't?" he was surprised.

She shook her head.

"In that case, I've no idea what kind of answer you'd like to get."

"I don't think it's about how you say it," she replied gently.

"If you suggest that I should run the consultations from the pulpit, eat my meals in my office and generally show myself to _normal_ people as little as possible, then let me tell you I won't," he warned.

She shook her head again. "I told you we don't want you to become arrogant," she repeated. "Why won't you just say-" Her words were interrupted by a slight sound of ringing. It was the beeper in her coat; she was being urgently called back to the ward. She drank the water from her glass, then got up and took the tray. "In any case, I hope I'm wrong," she decided. "And that you realise you're not only a great doctor but also a good man."

She left him with that idea and rushed to the exit. Law stared outside, finishing his tea. Some part of him was grateful - anyone would be happy to be told such nice words - but other wasn't moved at all. He knew the best he wasn't... had never been a good man. He'd committed too many crimes... had allowed too many losses to happen so that he could consider himself one. Even if now he did good, it was but an atonement for sins of the past. He wasn't a good man - but he was decent enough to face the wrong he'd done and atone for it. He couldn't imagine doing otherwise.

He no longer pondered on it, however, only headed for the consultations where he behaved like always, just as he'd announced to Kaya. He didn't have the faintest intention to change his custom or demeanour, even if they amazed some doctors, especially those new. He knew that, sooner or later, they would grow used to his manner and cease paying it attention.

He passed the next few hours admitting new patients. However, he finished sooner than he'd expected, and frowned upon realising it. There was one more referral on his desk, along with the empty chart, but the patient himself was nowhere to be found; the corridor outside Law's office was empty. It was rare for the patients to skip the appointment that their health, and often life, too, depended.

"Elle," he asked his secretary in the adjacent room. "Could you please find out what happened to Mr Peson?" he ordered, handing her the documents. "I was supposed to admit him today."

"Of course."

The woman first searched the list of all in-patients - it sometimes happened that the patient had been admitted to the hospital before his scheduled admission - but she didn't find the name. She then moved the Den Den Mushi closer and dialled the number that was written in the referral. Law stood by the window, watching the cloudy day turn into a cloudy evening, and listened to her voice. To preserve the confidentiality, the specific type of the Den Den Mushi was used, the one that made the words of the other's side mute, audible only to the caller.

"I'm calling from the Corazon Memorial Hospital on Ratfel. I would like to speak to Mr Peson. Ah, I see... I see, yes. I'm so sorry. We offer our condolences. Yes. Yes. I will. Good bye."

She hung up and looked at him.

"Mr Peson died the day before yesterday," she said, although there was actually no need.

Law had already expected that. The main reason why the patient missed their appointment was that he or she hadn't lived to see it. Of course, occasionally other things were at fault, like problems with transportation or getting the time wrong, but it happened rarely, even though Law would rather the ratio be inverse.

"Thank you," he said and turned away. He didn't want to see the secretary put the papers in the box containing the documents to be disposed of. He returned to his office and stopped by his desk, then opened the balcony door and went out. The air was moist and cold, unpleasant... but if fitted his mood.

He hated it when a patient had died before he'd managed to cure him or her. He knew he could do nothing about it, but he felt down every time that happened, nevertheless. Normally, he tried not to think of all those people whom death had taken too early; they were hundreds and thousands of them... But in these specific cases, when the patient had already had appointment, had been on the list of people ready for treatment, practically within reach of the Ope Ope no Mi... Law always felt dejected and guilty, and he could do nothing about it. It was hard to know that if he'd managed to admit that person earlier, he or she would have been enjoying their recovery now.

'You're not an almighty god,' he used to tell himself, trying to correct his way of thinking and provide himself with the needed distance... but, instead of feeling humble, awareness of his own imperfection filled him with anger and sense of defeat. 'You saved several people today,' he repeated in thought, trying to remember those he'd operated on this very morning... but in vain, for his brain had got in a loop because of this single one that had died before coming to the hospital. All success, all victories lost significance when faced with one defeat, even if he rationally knew he shouldn't see it this way.

He had a sudden urge to go back to his secretary and ask her to advance all admissions from the day after tomorrow to tomorrow. In the last second, he refrained himself from doing so. Elle must have already left home... and, besides, he wouldn't be able to treat twice as many patients he did presently. He probably wouldn't. Or would he...? Maybe if he applied himself to it, cut his lunch break short, stopped chatting with the kids... He surely could do something to arrange more time for treatment.

He put his elbows on the railing and pressed his forehead to his hands. He felt tired, although he knew that physically everything was right with him. Dejection, however, had the unpleasant ability to suck all strength from the man. No matter how he tried to do good, sooner or later situations like this one happened. No matter how many people he'd managed to help, days like this one always came, and it seemed to him he _killed someone_ again...

He thought he could hear the door to his office open, but before he managed to take an interest in it, a furry hand fell on his head. "I bet you had some very stupid thoughts now," Bepo said.

Law straightened and looked at him. "And you have some kind of a radar...?" he declared half-ironically, half-seriously. "You sense humans' mood."

"It was impolite. It sounded like I were some pet," the mink replied. "No, I met your secretary downstairs. She told me you're despondent."

"How can she know that?" Law grunted, although he knew he sounded childish.

"How may years has she worked with you" Bepo replied with another question. "It's always her to give you the bad news. She knows as well as I how you react to them, even if you don't show it."

Law stared at the darkening sea again. The pale points of the gulls kept moving up and down over the coastal waters that after storm must have filled with fish, all that accompanied by the piercing cries. Now, that sorrowful clangour perfectly resonated with his mood. "Why can't I use the Ope Ope no Mi like I wish?" he asked.

"The last time I saw it, you were using it exactly that way...?" Bepo responded at once.

"What's the point in having the Ope Ope no Mi if I'm not able to cure all people?" Law muttered.

Bepo patted him on his head again and then grabbed him by the elbow. "Come, you'll have some hot chocolate to clear your head," he decided.

"I'm not a kid..."

"Yeah... And it seems to me you weren't one long enough anyway... And in that case, you haven't had your share of cocoa yet."

In the end, Law let Bepo drag him to the canteen - in was on the same floor - although he told himself it would be just a few minutes. He even allowed Bepo to really bring him that hot chocolate.

"What's that rubbish about the Ope Ope no Mi?" the mink asked, sitting down with his own cup. "I'm sorry but what you said didn't sound wise. Actually, it sounded extremely stupid."

Law shrugged and blew on his cocoa, then took one sip. "I just don't like it when patients die on me... Okay?"

"Not okay. Patients _don't die_ on you," Bepo corrected him. "We know each other since we were kids, and I haven's seen a single patient dying on you."

"Come on, you know what I mean."

"And you know you're not responsible for _all_ people in the world."

"If I'd admitted him sooner-"

"Then maybe we should change our rules," the mink interrupted him, "so that the patients don't need to wait for the appointed day, only are sent here as soon as their doctor assesses they require the Ope Ope no Mi."

Law blinked and stared at him in surprise. "Can we do this?" he asked.

"You're a director here," Bepo pointed out. "It's for you to decide. But if we consider our hospital to be the best in the world - and I think we may assume it to be the case since we have the cure rate of one hundred and mortality rate zero percent - then we should be able to keep even the severely ill patient alive until you could examine and treat them. I don't think we'll be flooded, but we still will need a new wing and employ more people if we're going to admit more patients. It can be done, right?"

Law nodded, deep in thought. He felt his mind start working properly, like always when a task he could focus on appeared. It was much better than wallowing in unproductive dejection. Building a 'waiting ward' for the patients wasn't a problem, nor was to increase the personnel; the Corazon Memorial Hospital was a place where people wished to work, and the supply of human resources was higher than demand.

"But mind it that even this won't guarantee than no-one would die," Bepo added.

"I know. But at least it would happen rarely," Law replied animatedly and then focused his eyes on the mink. "It's a brilliant idea. Why didn't I think of it myself?"

Bepo shrugged. "Maybe you kept focusing on wrong things," he muttered somewhat mockingly, which was extremely rare in his case.

"Apparently," Law agreed with a wry smile. His mood was much better than just a quarter ago. He could do nothing about those who'd died already, but he could do something to limit such premature deaths from happening, from now on. "Thanks for that. I think it's going to ease my mind."

The mink said nothing. He stared at the table, twiddling the empty cup in his fingers. He didn't look like someone who'd just had a great idea. If Law's mood improved, then Bepo seemed quite upset now.

Law frowned, trying to guess the reason. "What's wrong?" he asked in the end, aware that if he didn't know, it would gnaw at him. He didn't want to offend Bepo, of all people.

Bepo raised his head and looked at him for a moment with the searching, sharp eyes. "I wonder how I should make it that you didn't have more work than you already have," he answered finally.

Law waved his hand. "_That_ is what you worry about?"

"Of course I do."

"Come on, everything will be fine," Law replied lightly. For him, it was the least important thing.

"If I hadn't known you better I'd say the Pirate King have a bad influence on you," Bepo muttered and leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. "_That_ is the most important thing. You already work too much. Even if using the Ope Ope no Mi for treatment consumes less energy than fighting, it still exhausts you. You can't expect me to be happy because of having thought more work for you."

"Less is an overshoot," Law corrected. "Treatment and fighting can't even be compared, believe me."

Bepo, however, didn't seem comforted. "In any case, I'm going to watch you," he announced. "You already work too much," he said again.

"Because only I have the Ope Ope no Mi. The problem is I can't use it as much as I'd like," he repeated his own words. "So-"

"Why do you always have to see everything through that Devil Fruit of yours?" the mink interrupted. "It's as if 'Trafalgar Law' equalled the 'Ope Ope no Mi'."

"Well, because... it does?"

Bepo rose abruptly. He opened his mouth to retort, but then he only shook his head. "I'm going down," he declared and added, "I'm glad you feel better," and if it'd been anyone else speaking, Law would've thought he could hear irony in those words. Then the mink turned to left the canteen, without sparing him any look. Normally, Law would be concerned about his friend's foul mood, but this time he had other things on his mind, and besides he was of the opinion that Bepo's concern was excessive.

On his way to his office, he thought he sometimes didn't understand other people. He couldn't comprehend why it was so hard to accept how he looked at his life and how he acted, even though his way of being was obvious. Why did they keep trying to turn him into someone else? Why did they stubbornly tried to put him in roles that differed from the one that was destined for him? He was under the impression that recently all around him had focused only on that: Bepo, Kaya, Ikkaku, even Luffy. Why couldn't they just leave him be with his Devil Fruit... why did they seem to treat the humanity's greatest good as something evil? He was almost offended by that, because the Ope Ope no Mi, before it had saved anyone else, first had saved _him_. If not for the Ope Ope no Mi, Trafalgar Law wouldn't be here, and thus such a criticism almost hurt him.

He told himself he could do nothing about other people's feeling; he could only accept that those around him had different opinion. They couldn't possibly mean anything wrong, and he shouldn't worry about it, he explained himself. Maybe it was his birthday that had provoked them to such reflection; celebrating someone's birthday meant to feel the time passing and prompted people to wonder about life, right? In that case, chances were everything would go back to normal soon, and that was what he comforted himself with.

When he sat down by his desk and moved closer the pile of documents, he stopped bothering his head about those thing, as with the Bepo's idea to enlarge the hospital. He could think of it tomorrow. Now he focused on the patient cases, relieved at the familiar and desired feeling that he was doing something meaningful.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

In the Corazon Memorial Hospital, there was one place that Law use to visit even less eagerly than the children's ward; fortunately, he didn't need to go there more often than once per month. It was the psychiatry, that occupied the seventh floor together with the neurology. As for the reasons why Law considered working with the psychiatric patients even more oppressive than with kids, there were quite a few, and they could be grouped as personal, ideological and medical.

Law wasn't convinced that the Ope Ope no Mi was very effective in the psychiatric disorders. He knew that mentally ill suffered from the pathological brain function; however, even bringing it to normal didn't guarantee a recovery, contrary to the purely physical conditions. He could restore the normal function of the central nervous system, and yet the patients' behaviour often remained bizarre, as if had been solidified during the years of their illness or was deeply rooted in their personality. Some disorders, like depression, Law couldn't cure at all; he could only alleviate the symptoms, which left him displeased and doubtful.

The ideological reason was that Law had a problem to consider psychiatry as a field of medicine, to begin with. It probably resulted from the fact that in his life he'd met more freaks than so-called normal people, and regarded madness as a part of human nature. He'd never thought it should be cured, and, when starting his hospital, it hadn't even occurred to him to open a _psychiatric_ ward. Clione, however, had been giving him grief about it - trying to convince him that the mentally ill didn't go mad because they wanted to, only they really suffered - and Law had finally yielded to his request.

The personal reasons for his reluctance were several, even though they mattered the least. He felt troubled around people whose sense of reality was completely different from his own. Law had always had both feet on the ground and kept a clear head, which he considered as one of his strongest points. He didn't daydream, didn't imagine things, didn't create illusions to believe in, didn't see enemies all around him, and had no delusions about himself. He saw things as they really were and didn't interpret his surroundings in a peculiar way. Yet, those patients, even if he'd talked to them for a whole month and presented lucid arguments, couldn't be persuaded that their hallucinations were only hallucinations, and their anxiety had no real cause. Law found it extremely frustrating. He couldn't but be amazed that there were people who could - and wanted - to work with such patients, and that was exactly the impression the personnel of the Seven gave, starting from the head of the department, through all doctors and nurses, ending with the ward domestic. As for himself, one day per month was enough, and he would never agree to visit the psychiatry more often.

Moreover, the mentally ill used to say things that should never escape from an adult person's lips and that Law often didn't know how to react to. He hated it when another person left him speechless, for he considered himself as an intelligent man and someone to always find his way in any situation... and it just wouldn't happen when on psychiatry. He never knew if he should answer seriously, or would it mean exactly that he was on the same level as the patient. Sometimes, he was under the ridiculous impression that those people, in fact, mocked and teased him, waiting that he said something stupid to triumph over him. Their words puzzled him and made him begin to doubt things that had been familiar and obvious to him so far. Whenever he left the Seven after the whole day, he never knew if he were wiser or more stupid, more sane or rather closer to madness than before. Clione always had a field day because of him.

However, Law was of the opinion that the main cause of his reluctance towards psychiatry was that it painfully reminded him of his own psyche. When he saw people suffering not physically but mentally, his mind involuntarily returned to the time when he himself had been as broken as they, crushed by the load greater he could bear, staying in a nightmare that wouldn't end. Hurt to the very core. Exposed to condemnation and rejected due to something that hadn't been his fault. He knew that mental suffering could be stronger than physical, or even stronger. He remembered that, long ago, it had been easier for him to accept the disease and prospect of death than the loss of people who'd been important to him. He'd somehow managed, but the wounds and scars remained, and he couldn't remove them even with the Ope Ope no Mi. That was why now, every month, he came to the psychiatric ward and did what he could - very little - to help those who dwelled in the nightmares produced by their own minds, rejected as the worse, lost in another reality and unable to find their way back to the familiar world.

When he entered the corridor of the Seven, however, he came to the conclusion that maybe the _first_ cause of his reluctance was the head of the department, anyway.

"Law, we begin to think you won't come today!" he heard an affectionate voice as soon as the door closed behind him.

"I always come, don't I?" he replied with a grimace that just wouldn't resemble a smile, and raised his eyes to look at Clione.

The head of the psychiatry and neurology department was standing in the doorway to the nurses' station, his expression perfectly happy, and yet there was sharp intelligence in his eyes. Clione took two steps towards him, clicking his heels. Law knew that he should have grown accustomed to his appearance long ago, but it still made him want to shook his head, maybe because he used to see him just once per month and always managed to forget, somehow... Eyes accented with mascara. Hair pinned up. Long earrings, ringing by his every move. Fingernails painted with a turquoise polish. Dress, stockings and high-heels. Slight scent of perfume. And under all that was a one-hundred-percent man... as far as Law knew. Well, it was his policy to never look in his workers' biography or medical records, nor to use the Ope Ope no Mi to look them anywhere else.

Whenever he saw Clione, all psychiatric sayings he'd heard during their long cooperation would cross his mind, like, 'There are no sane people; there are only undiagnosed ones,' or, 'A psychiatrist differs from his patient in that he leaves home for a night.' At the first sight, Clione seemed to be a complete nut, and maybe he really was the right person in the right place. Law didn't really care about that. In the world where even a polar bear or a reindeer could be doctors, a man with a penchant for dresses seemed but a colourful variation of an already weird norm. If the head of the neurology and psychiatry department sometimes asked to be addressed as 'Clio' - or even had undergone a sex change operation - it didn't matter to Law in the slightest. Himself, he once had been a pirate with the bounty of a milliard berry on his head, and yet he'd grown to be a respected doctor in the best hospital in the world. He had no right or desire to judge others or tell them how to live, even less in case of his workers. What mattered in the Corazon Memorial Hospital was that they wanted to treat people, and Clione was a pro who managed the psychiatrics with confidence and fantasy.

"Can we start?" Law asked, remembering why he was here.

"Yes, we're ready... But first I'd like to have a word with you," Clione replied. "Let's go to my office. We won't talk in the corridor."

It wasn't the first time that Law decided that, on this particular floor, it was best to keep silent, not think too much and do as he was ordered to, so he obediently followed the colleague. It had been a while since he'd visited that office, and he was nearly disappointed upon seeing that, contrary to Clione himself, the place was perfectly normal, even ordinary. Well, the real, colourful nature of psychiatry appeared in the contact with a patient, and those Clione met on the ward; here, he would only tend to the administrative matters.

"What's going on?" Law asked when the door closed behind them.

"Will you agree if we separate neurology and psychiatry? Administration-wise. Elysia knows everything she should know about managing a department. To tell the truth, she's been managing neurology on her own in the last months."

"It wasn't you who proposed they should be together?" Law asked with a surprise.

"No, you," Clione reminded. "I think you said that all patients sick in the head should be treated in the same place. Since neurology, of all medical fields, is the closest to psychiatry, I didn't protest, for it was important that the ward came into being in the first place, so one floor was sensible. But after all those years I clearly see that there's no reason to keep them together. It will be beneficial if each has its own boss."

Law admitted it sounded lucid. "You say that Elysia will do?"

"I have no doubt about it," Clione answered at once. "Have you heard about any problems on neurology?"

"No," Law replied truthfully.

"And it was she who managed the ward in the last year... even longer. I focused on my field. Occasionally, she consulted her ideas with me, but all were so good that I had no say. The personnel is very fond of her, and the patients satisfaction rate is growing."

Law nodded. He knew that neurology kept getting more and more positive feedbacks and it was currently in the second place, right after oncology. It meant that the work of the ward was good and moving in the right direction. In his mind, he recalled the face of the young neurologist with grey eyes and short brown hair. She was a decisive person, and he had no trouble to imagine her as a head of the department.

"Have you talked with her about it?" he asked. "Does she want to do it?"

"I haven't yet, I first wanted to ask you," Clione replied. "What do you think?"

"I think there's no problem." Law trusted himself well enough to be able to make quick decisions. "You've been her boss for years, so you know her skills best. If you're sure she will manage, why should I oppose? But first ask her if she wants to do it. Even if she's been managing neurology on her own, she still knew you were the boss. It's a different thing to have all responsibility oneself," he noticed.

"If it's about it, I have no doubts. She's a courageous woman who doesn't fear challenges. But I'll talk to her and ask her opinion, just as you suggest," the psychiatrist promised. "I planned to do it anyway."

"Fine. Inform me if she agrees. We'll take care of all administrative matters," Law said, deciding the case was closed.

"Thank you, I'm glad about it. I guarantee you that the hospital will only benefit from that," Clione announced with a smile. Then, however, he pierced Law with the gaze of his made up eyes and asked suspiciously, "But you don't plan to take advantage of the situation and close the psychiatrics... now or later, right?"

"Well, now that you mentioned it... _You_ have the worse rate of patients satisfaction..." Law said in a serious, even concerned voice, although he felt like sniggering. "I'm afraid that the shutdown is unavoidable..."

Clione lightly hit him on the shoulder and smiled menacingly. "Such is a charm of psychiatry. Our patients rarely realise the need to be treated, even when they feel better already, so we hardly ever receive any positive feedback," he replied and then added ironically, "If even our wise director thinks that the psychiatry ward isn't needed, what should we expect of them...?"

"Fine, fine. If I closed psychiatry, then I have no idea where such a freak like you would go..." Law retorted.

Clione, however, didn't follow his joke only gave him a serious look. "Law, I would perfectly manage on my own, but they wouldn't," he said, and then some warmth appeared in his eyes. "I know I said it many times so far, but I'm really grateful to you for this ward. And that you use the Ope Ope no Mi to treat those people."

Law averted his eyes, suddenly feeling abashed. "Then don't keep me here all day and let me start my work already. I'd like to cure them all."

"I think the day that you agree to date me is closer than the one you'll have cured all mentally ill," Clione muttered, opening the door. "Let me remind you that schizophrenia develops in every social group and population, and-"

"I know, I've heard it thousand times," Law cut in, following him to the corridor. "It also develops in people without genetic load. They just get de novo mutation."

"And that's why it can't be eradicated."

"No genetic disease can," Law corrected. "Well, the Ope Ope no Mi can at least remove some symptoms." He stopped abruptly and stared at the psychiatrist. "You were serious about that date...?"

"No," Clione answered, shrugging. "You're so busy you never leave the building... And the dinner in the canteen doesn't count as a date. Besides, everyone knows Trafalgar Law is alone."

Law thought it was no answer. Clione, like befitted a psychiatrist, accurately read his frown as lack of understanding and added, "I mean, that's how you chose to live. I'm not going to go into your reasons, for it's not my habit to diagnose my friends. In any case, that's how you chose."

Law said nothing only resumed walking. Then, however, he glanced at Clione again, and the colleague added, slightly exasperated, "There's no need to be bothered with what I said." Then, however, his gaze grew serious again. "Law, I didn't mean to confuse you. I should have known I had better spare myself such comments. I'm sorry-"

"Don't apologise," Law shook his head and then looked at him askance. "There's one problem with you, the psychiatrist: once can never know if you're serious or nor..."

"Now, that was a bit too harsh," Clione replied with a fake offence.

"Then, you really want to go for a date with me?" Law asked ironically.

"My, you won't leave me alone now, will you...? And the problem with you is that you always want everything in black and white," the psychiatrist retorted. "No, I would just be happy to spend more time with you. But if you want to know if I'm pinning away due to unrequited love then the answer is no. Even if we all love you, no-one plans to usurp you, for it is pointless. And don't have that look of 'I-can't-believe-I'm-having-this-conversation'."

"Then let me get to work, before I go crazy... without having met a single patient yet," Law pointed out mockingly.

"You have wrong attitude. You should rather think that you can learn something new from them," Clione suggested with a nasty smile.

"I can't believe I'm having this conversation," Law said, rolling his eyes.

"Welcome to psychiatry," Clione replied cheerfully.

They returned to the ward where, as it seemed, normal psychiatric activities were taking place. Law chose to ignore a man in the corner who, apparently, was chasing away invisible bats, as well as another one who was having an animated conversation with a turned off telly. He knew that Ope Ope no Mi was able to eliminate such symptoms as hallucinations and delusions and, what was more important, minimise the risk of their reoccurrence. Although science still didn't fully answer the question what caused schizophrenia and other psychoses, the patients often presented either with abnormalities of the brain structure or functional disorders related to the neurotransmitters, often both. Of course, there was no telling whether psychosis caused those or resulted from them. What they knew was that the psychotic process was toxic to brain, leading to the further loss of the nervous tissue, but it still couldn't be ruled out that people who were to later be diagnosed with schizophrenia had already had reduced brain volume and mass, long before the first symptoms manifested.

Law knew that the reason why the mentally ill didn't recover even with the Ope Ope no Mi therapy was because he didn't 'repair' their brains, that was he didn't interfere with their brain tissue. If he had, forming anew the grey and white matters, cortex, lobes and gyri, then he would turn them into different people, which he considered to be an activity going beyond medical ethics. Brain contained a person's psyche, a soul. Even if he could successfully operate on its parts, removing abnormalities of kind or another, then modifying it as a whole just wouldn't do. He didn't dare to rebuilt the brain tissue based on the repaired genetic code, even if one might think, theoretically, that doing so he would recreate a person as he or she would have been if no disorder had developed.

No, something like that was out of question, just like he never meddled with people's memory centres, even if they sometimes asked him to remove particular memories from their minds. A man was what the life had made him, and each life included bad times and unfortunate events, too. A person developed and got stronger, working with his tragedies, not forgetting them, no matter how painful they were. It was the same in case of the physically ill people; they could remember they once had been ill, suffered, felt anxiety and other negative emotions. Law thought it was more natural that way, and the patients had access to the psychotherapists who could help them convert those painful fragments of their history into something good and beneficial.

Nevertheless, Law would feel better if he could cure the mentally ill completely; things being as they were, he was left with feeling that the work was incomplete and his success only partial. Well, he was a perfectionist, so there was nothing odd about his frustration... He had to settle for restoring the stability of nervous system, regulating the level and activity of neurotransmitters, and slightly repairing some abnormalities in the brain anatomy. He couldn't, however, make the prefrontal cortex grow thicker, or increase the volume of hippocampus, which meant he had no means to reverse the cognitive deficits, like problems with memory, planning capacity or social skills. Even if the patients no longer suffered from the psychotic orders, they kind of stayed on a certain level of functioning and there was no chance to regain what they'd lost during years of duration and progress of their illness. Better prognosis was only in case of people who had just fell ill, in their _first_ episode - they could still achieve the full recovery - but such patients were rare in the Corazon Memorial Hospital. More often, it was people who'd been ill for years or dozens of years that were admitted here, those their families could no longer take care of, and in their case full recovery was simply impossible.

Psychiatric operations, after Law had accepted he couldn't change the whole brain only affect some aspects of its functioning, were quite simple, although they depended on the diagnosis. In patients with schizophrenia, they includes decreasing the dopamine level in the mesolimbic pathway, increasing it in the mesocortical pathway, and normalising its synthesis in the nigrostriatal pathway; enhancing the serotonin activity in some parts of brain and suppressing it in others; regulating the activity of glutamate, GABA and a few more substances. It happened by repairing the cells that produced the neurotransmitters, molecules of transport proteins, and receptors of substances that facilitated their action. Law had performed many such surgeries, and now they were but a familiar routine for him.

After treatment, the patients were calmer, had better mood and acceptable level of anxiety. They often said it was easier to gather their thoughts now or concentrate, and that they had better memory than before. Of course, they no longer heard voices nor experienced any other hallucinations, and their daily functioning usually returned to normal. However, just like Clione had said, because they often lacked insight, they didn't necessarily connect that improvement with the hospitalisation; they rather saw it as a natural event that must have happened sooner or later. Work in the psychiatry wasn't for those who needed the patient's gratitude; the only reward was that the patients felt better and could function in their normal life again. That was the most important thing, anyway.

So that was how Law spent one day per month: on seventh floor, patiently restoring the physiological stability of the central nervous system of numerous patients and knowing that the result would be just acceptable, at the very most. Psychiatry taught to be humble and made every doctor, even the 'greatest doctor in the world', realise their own imperfection. However, maybe being reminded that a doctor was just a human, too, had some positive connotation. If there were still people who wished to take care of those who could never be as healthy as others... if they still wanted to help them, despite very limited possibilities and means, then everything was still fine with the world and the health care. And when one looked at Clione, whose eyes filled with affection and sympathy whenever he talked about his patients, then one was under the impression that something had been saved... some good that could happen only because of another man.

It still didn't change the fact that Law would rather not associate with the psychiatric patients, to avoid such situations. They entered the room of the first patient Law should treat today, a middle-age man. Before they managed to say more than, 'Good morning,' the patient stared at Law and pointed an accusing finger at him.

"Evil," he said.

"What are you saying, Mr Maks," Clione spoke, walking up to the patient. "He is Dr Law, the hospital director. Of course he isn't evil."

"He has signs on his skin," the man wouldn't be persuaded. "Evil."

Somewhat perplexed, Law thought that apparently one had to be a psychiatric patient to feel anxious upon seeing tattoos but react normally to a guy in a dress. In any case, he decided that using the words 'Devil Fruit' wasn't wise around that particular man.

"I told you yesterday that Dr Law would give you a treatment today," Clione said.

"He has an ugly mug. I don't trust him," the patient declared flatly, then crossed his arms and scowled at Law.

"Nah, he isn't ugly... only a bit gloomy," Clione replied. "I always say he should smile more."

"He's a cheater," the patient decided. "Don't believe him, Doc... Or maybe you are on his side?" he added in an aggressive manner, looking up at the psychiatrist before he glowered at Law again.

"Mr Maks, have I ever been not on your side? I assure you that Dr Law acts in your best interest. You're going to feel much better after treatment."

The patient didn't say anything; he kept staring at Law with distrust. Then his gaze got blurred, and it seemed he lost touch with the situation for a moment.

"Mr Maks...?"

The man started and returned to the present. "What?"

"What did you hear?" Clione asked.

"That you are evil, all of you. I'm not allowed to talk to you. Go away."

"All right, we'll soon leave," the psychiatrist assured him. "But first your treatment."

He waved at Law, who activated the Ope Ope no Mi and calmed the patient so that he let them lead him to his bed. Then he anesthetised him and started the surgery. Clione's presence didn't bother him in the slightest. When using the Ope Ope no Mi, he cut himself off from the reality himself, acting in a separate dimension, and Clione, although it seemed impossible at first, could merge in the background and not to draw attention.

"Mr Maks had the beginning of the coronary disease," Law informed after the treatment was over. "Talk to him about the healthy lifestyle once he's more willing to listen, okay?"

Clione nodded and wrote it the chart. Law, although he normally didn't use his Devil Fruit to cure 'light' diseases, made an exception for the psychiatric patients; he knew their ability to care about their health was often diminished, which made them more often develop cardiovascular diseases, which, in turn, affected negatively their life expectancy. Opening the blocked arteries or stimulating the pancreas were very minor actions that took just a moment, so he could add them as bonus to the main treatment.

"What those people have left once they stopped hearing voices and imagining they are the centre of the attention?" he'd once asked the psychiatrist, aware that the hallucinations and delusions often resulted from the solitude or unconscious need to mean something. Those people just filled the emptiness, for every person needed some sense in their life.

"A good question. I like to fancy that they will be able to fill that empty place with something that won't make them suffer," Clione had answered. "That once their contact with the world is restored, and it's no longer distorted, they will see all those things they were indifferent to before. Other people, some interesting matters, pleasant activities. That they will find their life easier and will feel connected to what is around them."

Law hoped it to be so and that this patient, Mr Maks, once he stopped seeing enemies everywhere and hearing hateful voices, would find friends or something that would give him joy, too.

They went to the next patient. Back in the corridor, Law saw that the man in the corner ceased chasing away the bats and was now vigorously brushing something off himself, maybe great spiders. The man by the telly was silent now and seemed to be listening closely to the other side. Before Law's eyes, another patient, an elderly man, approached the telly and simply switched it on, which made the 'talker' jump to his feet and leave, giving vent to his outrage in a violent gesticulation.

The next for treatment was a middle-age woman, who was more than happy to share her experience with them.

"Mrs Jamille, how do you feel today?" Clione asked.

"My name is Daniela Wick," the woman replied.

"It's written in the chart that your name is Jamille Hissingen. And that you were born in year eighty-two, on June 12th."

"Of course I wasn't! It's December 10th. But the year is correct," she admitted. "On June 12th, my clones were born."

"Clones?"

"Yes, all ten thousand of them. My identity was stolen a several times, and they used it to create them. They move around the city. Actually around the whole country. But I'm Daniela Wick. I have it written in my brain. The aliens showed it to me."

"Who? Aliens?"

"Yes. From outer space. I'm in contact with them."

"What kind of contact?"

"You know, in thoughts. But sometimes I can't concentrate on anything because they talk all the time."

"I see. It must be hard. It would be better if sometimes you could get some rest from them, right?"

"I think so... I could watch television, for example. And I can't sleep because of them. The last light I didn't sleep at all; I had to listen to them."

"We'll try to remedy that. This is Dr Law, who is going to give you some treatment. I mentioned about it yesterday, do you remember?"

"No... but it's all the same. Only now I'm busy because they give me important information about this world, so maybe later."

"I promise it won't take long."

The patient was persuaded into lying down on her bed, and soon everything was over. Law had no doubt that once she waked up, she would be able to watch television indeed, and without any intrusions from the aliens from the outer space."

The third patient wasn't even twenty, and his insight was intact. Hallucinations made him feel very scared, regardless of his belief they were just the symptoms of the disease.

"My doctor said it's schizophrenia," he spoke when Clione and Law sat down. "Is it true, Doctor? I'm so scared of it. My aunt suffered from schizophrenia, but I can hardly remember her because she committed suicide long ago. No-one in our family wanted to talk about her... And now I hear voices myself, and they threaten me and say I should kill myself. They say I'm worthless and that something bad will happen to my relatives. I've been hearing them for several months, but at first they were distant and unclear... only later I started to make the words, when they became louder. Now I can hear them all the time, just like I hear you now, Doctor. Alcohol helped to drown them out, a bit, but later they only grew louder. The medication doesn't work, only the sedatives... I don't know how should I live with it," he said, pressing both hands to his ears, and then his lips started to quiver.

"Mr Samos, I told you yesterday that our hospital have some... ah, advanced methods of treatment."

"That's what I heard, too... But everyone knows that schizophrenia is an incurable disease," the patient said resignedly. "It's better to kill myself, after all."

"No, Mr Samos. Dr Law here can make it so you will never hear those voices again. And probably you will be able to continue living normally. You're studying at the university, aren't you?"

The patient nodded. "Yes... I'm studying physics. I started last year... but now I'm quite behind... Can you really cure me?" He looked up to shift his gaze between Law and Clione, distrust mixing with hope in his eyes.

"There's a big chance for that."

"They say I'm going to die," the young man said. "That if I agree to that, I'm a goner. But I don't believe them..."

"And you shouldn't. In the history of our hospital, Dr Law hasn't let a single patient die. He knows what to do."

The boy bit his lips and then nodded. He was trembling all over, lying down on his bed, as Clione instructed him to do, and clasping his fingers nervously. Law put him to sleep as fast as possible and began the treatment.

He spent the whole day this way. Apart from the patients with schizophrenia, he also operated on those suffering from other recurring psychoses as well as treatment-resistant affection disorders, depression included. Young and old. Adults and youths. Women and men. Mental diseases neither choose nor discriminated. They appeared in every race and population, in every social class and system, in very climate and age. In case of schizophrenia, which was bizarre enough itself already, the most bizarre was that its prevalence in the world population was exactly one percent, just as if it had been written in some bigger plan, in someone's idea...

However, the philosophic matters had never interested Law, just as he never tried to find any other cause of a disease than medical. He was a doctor, and his task was to treat the ill, not explain the sense of their disease to them. Even if a disease, once it happened, could bring something good, too, it had no sense itself, and the best would be if all people were healthy. Yet, because they had fragile bodies and didn't live in void only were exposed to all kinds of external factors, the health problems couldn't be avoided - and thus the doctors would always have work to do, this one was obvious.

When Law finished, it was dark outside. Clione, like always, had been accompanying him all day, leaving only occasionally to do some deskwork or have a consultation with his residents. Law was under the impression that the psychiatrist's presence made his work easier, for Clione had good influence on the patients. He was always composed, but it was not all; his attitude was also important. He wasn't overly respectful and rather talked with them like with anyone, even joked. He didn't focus solely on symptoms but also inquired about other aspects of their life situation. He smiled a lot and emanated positive energy. At the same time, he didn't let the patients get over on him and could be very decisive, if situation needed. He was someone that the patient trusted.

Compared to him, Law felt he was an antisocial bear, interested only in the patients' diseases and their treatment. Well, it was true... but he didn't plan to reproach himself for that now. Just like with every other head of the department, he was glad it was Clione managing this ward. He was really lucky to have such a great personnel working under him; all of them were people with a calling and brilliant doctors who had never failed him, both in medical and administrative matters.

"You're really not bored, sitting by me and observing?" he asked when they were eating dinner in the canteen. On his 'psychiatric days', Law used to skip lunch, reasoning that doing so his visit on the Seven would be over sooner... At least, he had used to before; nowadays, having the dinner with Clione had been his habit, and he hardly ever thought of it.

The psychiatrist shook his head, putting the fork down and wiping his mouth with a napkin. "It's my only chance to spend some time with you," he replied outright. "You, at least, visit my ward regularly... Bepo sometimes passes me on the corridor, as does Ikkaku. I can't remember the last time I saw Uni," he added sadly. "When in the Polar Tang, we were always together. Sometimes we were even sick of each other, weren't we... But here everyone has their own floor and own work. Do you remember, before we used to meet and go outside together... But then we no longer could find time as people started to have their own affairs. I sometimes go out with Shachi and Penguin..." he said, thoughtful. Then, however, he focused his eyes on Law again. "But it's not like I blame you or anything, don't even think that," he added with emphasis. "How we live is our own business. I respect your work... as everyone else's. And I'm really happy to work here. This place is special."

Law said nothing, fixing his eyes on his meal. He wasn't going to feel remorse because of his work... but he still was uncomfortable, knowing that his action somehow made his colleague sad, especially when Clione was one of the nicest people he'd ever met. Yet, he was of the opinion he could do nothing about it, so there was no point in talking about it, either.

"I'd rather you said something," Clione muttered. "You have a terrible habit of keeping everything to yourself, and people can never know what's on your mind."

"Even a psychiatrist?" Law asked ironically, pushing the empty plate away, and leaned on the back of the chair.

"Even psychiatrist can't read others' mind," Clione smiled. "If you're mad, just say it."

Law shook his head. "I'm not mad. I just..." What it was he wanted to say, actually?

"You have different needs, right?" Clione guessed.

"So, you read my thought, after all," Law muttered, drinking his tea.

"No, I read your behaviour," the psychiatrist corrected.

"You said you don't use to diagnose your friends, remember?"

"I'm off work. I even removed my white coat, see?"

Law glanced at him askance. He knew that if he ever wished to talk about thing different from those that occupied him normally, Clione would be the best choice... Or maybe he just felt like engaging in that specific game...?

For a moment, he struggled with himself and then finally asked, "Then, what are you going to tell me?"

Clione's eyebrows slightly rose, he apparently hadn't expected Law taking up his offer, but he didn't miss the occasion nonetheless. Never taking eyes off Law, he leaned backwards and clasped his fingers. "You completely devoted yourself to your work," he said. "Not that it's anything new... After all, even before you used to always focus only on your task. Do you remember what you used to say to people who wished to join our crew? That you demanded absolute obedience. You weren't interested in who the man was; important was if you could trust they would fulfil your orders. Your crew weren't your friends... And your workers aren't your pals, either, right? You're happy with that level of social relations that you have through your work."

Well, Law decided it didn't sound that bad... and definitely wasn't wrong. "Everyone says I focus on work too much," he said, however, in spite of himself, "Bepo, Ikkaku, even Kaya... You're only the next one in that criticism."

Clione shook his head, still giving him that close look as if Law were the only person in the world. It was the gaze that the patients needed... although Law wasn't sure whether he needed it himself.

"No, I'm not criticising you, nor am I judging you. I've never done it anyway. Everyone has the right to live like he or she wishes," the psychiatrist said calmly and added, "Just like everyone has the right to worry about someone else. And it is true that you _work_ too much, so no wonder we worry about you. But I don't think anything _forces_ you to live that way, against your will, although-" He stopped short and shook his head again. "Well, it was your conscious choice... even if the majority of our decisions are made unconsciously. In any case, there's no need that every person imagines their perfect happiness as staying healthy and having a good job, a family and a house with a garden."

"You haven't said anything I don't know myself," Law muttered.

"Ah, then you really need a psychiatrist's opinion," Clione said with a twisted smile, but soon he grew serious again. He drank his tea, then moved closer to the table and put his elbows on it. When he spoke, his voice was softer now, "If you really want me to, I'm going to tell you what I think... but if you don't like it, we're not going to talk about it ever again. I don't want it to stand between us, all right? Whatever I'm going to tell you, I'm not doing it of ill will, quite the contrary... Can you trust me on this matter, Law? We, psychiatrists, often tell people things they don't like," he added, smiling wryly.

Law nodded. "I can tell that you have some kind of opinion about me, so you can as well say it aloud," he said, trying to ignore the fact his heart beat faster. He crossed his arms. "I can put it next to the rest," he added with irony that Clione ignored.

The psychiatrist rested his chin on the clasped hands and started to talk, never averting his eyes, "I've been knowing you for over twenty years, and I don't think you push people away because you don't like it. It is rather that you avoid attachment, for it makes you unconsciously feel uncomfortable. Or maybe even consciously. You fear what it brings. You always try to put everything under control, while the other person can't be controlled and he or she will never be exactly like you wish, so disappointment is inevitable in any close relation. Moreover, you're someone who never goes for half measures only acts on a rule 'everything or nothing'. You wouldn't be able to balance your career with your private life in a satisfactory way. You would feel unfulfilled in both, because you would rather devote yourself fully to what you're doing, but you can't cut yourself in two. That is why you committed yourself fully, _entirely_ to your work. You give it your all time, you not only live in this hospital; you live and breath it. This and the Ope Ope no Mi. That way you don't feel guilty about doing things halfway, and you retain your inner stability. You have the feeling everything is like it should be, everything is all right, and you're okay with yourself."

"It's called 'anancastic personality', right?" Law threw. So far, Clione had said only things that were familiar to him.

"Yes. But your case goes beyond it, for it seems to me that the cause of your obsession is deeper than just belief that, as user of the Ope Ope no Mi, it's your duty to spend your live healing people. You have unnatural powers and can perform medical miracles... but I don't see you to be happy of your success, merely satisfied. You more acutely feel upset when you haven't manage to save someone than you feel glad when you have helped someone, right? As if you blame yourself... felt you've failed. When I look at you, Law, I am under the impression that your life is some kind of atonement, that you want to atone for something you did... Something that had happened even before you became a pirate... before we all met you. You've never stopped having that specific air around you, one you already had over twenty years ago. Every doctor has anancastic personality, but, to my eye, you act as someone who doesn't see any sense in his life than work and who would be the happiest if he worked himself to death. You don't care about yourself, not al all. You seem to live only because of the Ope Ope no Mi."

Law listened to that with his eyes fixed on the table. His heart was beating fast, but he knew his face was blank. The truth was he _lived_ only because of the Ope Ope no Mi.

"In reality, we know very little about you," Clione continued, his voice serious. "Even though we've been around you for so long, more than half of your life, you gave us only some scraps about your past. I think two things matter here: how you got the Ope Ope no Mi... and who was _Corazon_. For twenty years-"

Law's head snapped up. "Don't..." he objected before he managed to contain himself, and then clenched his fists.

Clione, however, was staring at him with his steely gaze and didn't stop, although his voice was barely a whisper now, "-you have said just one sentence about him: that he was your benefactor. Putting all together: the way you exist, your complete devotion to the Ope Ope no Mi, and this hospital that is your life, I guess that _Corazon died having got you the Ope Ope no Mi_. And you feel responsible for his death, still blame yourself for it and wish to atone... but nothing you do can't comfort you because you can't bring him back to life. You think you owe him a debt that you could repay only with your own death. And that is why you don't attach any value to your life, seeing yourself only as a tool for the Ope Ope no Mi's action."

Law knew he should get up, stop this conversation right here... and yet something he couldn't understand made him stay and listen, even though he could barely hear because of his blood humming in his ears.

"And I think," Clione said, his voice softer now, "that if Corazon was the most important person to you, no wonder you decided to never again let anyone close to you, because his death must have hurt you to your very core. You're someone who engages in everything fully, so you probably loved him so much that nothing else mattered. His death left emptiness that no-one ever managed to fill... that you didn't let anyone fill. What was left is the life that bear witness to your love for him... or so it seems to you."

Law looked in the darkness outside. He didn't want to think; he wished he could unscrew his head and throw it to the sea. He wished he could stop his heart from beating, because it hurt. He wished to deny everything. He wished this conversation had never taken place. He wished that...

He looked at Clione, who suddenly seemed a stranger to him.

"What if I say you got everything wrong?" he finally said in reluctance, although he knew well there was no point in saying anything.

"Then, Law, I'd be very happy," Clione answered with that serious voice of his that rang with clear compassion.

Law muffled a curse. However, before he managed to speak again, a quiet but intrusive beep came from all communicator and speakers: a signal informing about the red alert for the whole hospital.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Law jumped to his feet, ready to teleport on the first floor. "ROOM."

Clione grabbed his hand. "Law, we're not finished," he said with emphasis. "We're just half-way in this conversation."

Impatiently, Law nodded, which made the psychiatrist let go of his hand. The next moment, he was standing in the dispatch office, that received all calls about the accidents and where the emergency transport was coordinated from. "What happened?" he asked the controller sitting by the console.

"The roof of the factory in Segvel collapsed, many wounded," the man informed concisely. "Their rescue services declared a disaster. I dispatched the ambulances already. The emergency unit has been notified, as have the operating theatres of surgery and orthopaedics."

Jean Bart, the head of the transport department, rushed into the room. "Did they say how many wounded should we expect?" he asked from the doorway.

"They said there were around one hundred workers at the scene. In that scale of the accident, most of them must have been injured."

"Then, at least twenty, thirty would come here... Director?" Jean Bart turned to Law.

"Notify all surgeons, neurosurgeons and orthopaedists you could reach that they are requested to report to work," Law ordered. "And anaesthetists, too. We're going to need all hands."

Without further ado, Jean Bart went to his office, which was in the adjacent room.

"How many ambulances did you send?" Law asked the dispatcher. His heart was racing.

"Five."

"Send three more... No, four."

The man nodded and grabbed the microphone of the emergency Den Den Mushi. There was no panic nor nervousness in his voice and gestures; his actions were efficient and conscious. Convinced the dispatcher could handle the situation, Law left him and headed for the emergency unit. The hospital had ten submarine and three ground ambulances. There was no point in keeping them here in the event with many casualties.

Even though the accidents of the disaster level happened rarely in this region, Law was glad to notice that the procedures had been going smoothly so far. The Corazon Memorial Hospital seemed to be well prepared for the crisis, and not only on paper, but also in practice. It was because of the people who knew what to do. He hoped it would be so in this case as well.

Fortunately, there were no patients in the emergency unit, and the staff could focus on treating those who would be soon coming from the neighbouring island. There was the air of composed concentration in the unit, but the tension, too. Law searched for Bepo, only to see him approaching from the operating room in the next moment.

"Everything's ready," the mink informed. "Now we have to wait. Do you have any idea how many injured might come?"

"Jean Bart suspects from twenty to thirty."

Bepo pressed his lips and shook his head. "We'll manage," he said.

"We will," Law agreed.

They both dressed up in the scrubs; even if the situation made it impossible to achieve sterility, these clothes increased comfort and gave better freedom of movement. Bepo ate two chocolate bars. Another few minutes passed, with no new info, but the first doctors and nurses called into work appeared. Waiting was exhausting, it demanded as much energy as acting, but there was no help. Law tried to assess how long it might take to transport the injured from Segvel; even the submarines equipped with the best motors needed at least half an hour to cover the distance... However, he then realised, the rescue operation would be hindered by darkness and the very nature of accident. The roof had collapsed, which meant that most of the injured people were trapped under debris. If the construction of the building had been damaged, then even those without the serious injuries wouldn't be able to get out... It could as well take an hour or two before the first patients arrived.

"I should go there," Law said, his fingers clasping at the fabric of his scrub trousers. "I could help to quickly get out the injured..."

Bepo grabbed his arm. "Be reasonable. Even if you help to get them out, you won't be able to treat all of them there. You'd need to return here, which means we'd lose at least one hour; you can't use the Ope Ope no Mi underwater, and there's place only for one patient in an ambulance. We _have to_ leave it to the rescue services."

Law clenched his jaws... but the next moment the dispatcher voice could be heard from the speakers, announcing that the first transport was on its way back. Law's heart beat faster, yet he felt relieved. It was much better than the lack of information.

"We have a sudden cardiac arrest," the paramedic in the ambulance reported. "No shockable rhythm, asystole..."

"Administer adrenaline," Bepo ordered. "Resuscitate."

"We have a rhythm. Patient's in critical condition. Male, 40s. Polytrauma, blood loss, he's in hypovolemic shock..."

Then only another communications could be heard...

"Male, mid-40s, critical condition. GCS 3, suspected massive head injury. Needs an immediate attention."

"Male, mid-20s, serious condition. Vast injury of the chest, respiratory problems, suspected pneumothorax."

"Male, 30s, serious condition. Both legs crushed..."

"Male, 30s, critical condition. Multiple injuries in the pelvic region..."

"Female, 50s, critical condition. Head injury..."

"Female, mid-20s, critical condition. Foreign object in the skull..."

The next hours merged in one, and Law suspected it was the same for all people participating in the rescue operation. Upon arriving in the hospital, every wounded person was first enveloped in the Ope Ope no Mi, that could freeze the vital functions. Then Law performed a quick diagnostic of the injuries in order to pick up those life-threatening, and tended to them at once. Since new patients came all the time, he couldn't operate on everyone and delegated those he'd managed to stabilise to other doctors.

Head injury. Brain stem damaged, requiring an immediate cellular regeneration, otherwise the patient would die. Multiple skull fractures, bone fragments in the brain tissue, compressing the cortex. They must be removed, and the blood vessels must be regenerated to provide the circulation. Administer antibiotics and analgetics. Rebuild the bone. Regeneration of the parietal and frontal lobes can be done later.

Chest injury. Ribs stuffed in the right lung, crushing its parenchyma that had partly necrosed. The patient has a severe respiratory failure. The lung must be regenerated, with its aveoli, bronchioles and blood vessels. Regenerate the skin and the intercostal muscles. Put the patient on oxygen, administer antibiotics and continuous analgetic infusion. The rest of the muscles can be rebuilt later.

Polytrauma, multiple external and internal haemorrhages. The patient is in a hypovolemic shock. Close all damaged vessels, starting from the big ones, start the transfusion. The patient's blood group is X (Rh+). Stimulate the adrenal medulla to secrete adrenaline. Ensure the continuous supply of oxygen and administer analgetics. The damaged organs will be repaired later.

Foreign object in head. A metal bar is penetrating the orbit, and its other end is pocking out of the occiput. Diffuse injury of the temporal lobe, damaged vessels and haemorrhage are causing the further compression of the brain tissue. Remove the bar, rebuild the vessels, decompress the injured areas and resupply them with blood. Connect oxygen, administer antibiotics and analgetics. The tissue will be rebuilt later, along with the reconstruction of the eye.

Spinal trauma. Spinal cord severed at the C5, vertebrae fragmentised. Remove the tiniest bone pieces. Rebuild all damaged vertebrae and secure the spinal cord. Oxygen, antibiotics and analgetics. Regeneration of the nerve fibres can wait a few hours.

Extensive pelvic injury. Damaged intestines, reproductive organs and urinary bladder, multiple haemorrhages. Hypovolemic shock and danger of peritonitis. Stop the bleeding, start the transfusion, blood group XF (Rh-). Administer antibiotics. Remove the necrotic part of the small intestine and regenerate the colon. Sew all ruptured organs. Regenerate the bones of the pelvis. Analgetics.

Another head injury. Another chest injury. Another polytrauma. Another head injury. Another polytrauma. Another spinal injury. Blood, lots of blood. Torn bodies, crushed organs and tissues. Broken bones and damaged nerves. Foreign bodies in the organs. Remove, sew, rebuilt. Oxygen, transfusion, antibiotics. Regeneration of bones and muscles, nerves and skin. Administer analgetics.

Law operated on several patients at the same time, that was, in rotation; he couldn't perform several thought processes at the very same second, and the Ope Ope no Mi acted according to his thought and conscious will. It required the skill of instant concentration and instant change of his focus point. Surgeries continued for hours, but he regularly stimulated the secretion of adrenaline and noradrenaline in his adrenal glands, and glucose synthesis in his liver; he also monitored the dopamine concentration in his blood to keep his organism in the full activity and his cognitive function at the best level. He didn't need to eat or sleep and could work like this over ten hours easily, but not infinitely, for using the Ope Ope no Mi did weaken him, and the hormonal stimulation worked only for some time. That was why now he used his Devil Fruit only for life-saving surgeries or those that couldn't be performed with the conventional methods. As for all other injuries, other doctors could tend to them; they were perfectly aware that his strength wasn't inexhaustible, frustrating as it was.

When operating, however, he didn't think of it; he focused fully on treatment. Thanks to the hormonal stimulation, he was staying on his feet and his brain was performing perfectly; only that mattered. He felt good, even great. His heart was beating with a regular, firm rhythm. His breathing was even and deep enough. His muscles moved smoothly and with precision. His mind was working at full capacity, which was unachievable for normal people. He was calm and purposeful. He knew what to do and never hesitated in his decisions. His ability to concentrate was so well-developed that no change in his patients' condition escaped him; he was tuned to every beat of the heart and its lack, to blood oxygen level and blood pressure. It seemed to him he could hear the pulse or even the sound the muscle fibre made during systole and diastole. He felt almost physically connected to the people he was healing and whose life he was holding in his own hands and in the Ope Ope no Mi powers.

When he was in such state, time used to lose its meaning. He didn't register its passage, neither did he pay attention to the number of patients he'd operated so far, although he kept contact with them, even those on monitors already, to be able to react in case they suddenly needed his attention. He'd cut himself off all other stimuli, and the doctors and nurses accompanying him knew better than to break his concentration.

He finished in the morning; the patients had run out. Bepo said all had been tended to and no more injured were coming. The staff members thanked each other and started to disperse. Law kept standing for a moment, then sat down on the stool by the wall and looked at the clock. It was half past nine; he'd been working fourteen hours straight.

Bepo sat by him. "All patients are stable and on monitors. You can leave them. We'll let you know if anything happens."

Law nodded, but it still took him a longer while before he decided to deactivate the Ope Ope no Mi. After using it for so long, it felt strange now, as if he'd been suddenly deprived of some important sense. The impression was so unpleasant he trembled.

Bepo yawned. "I'm going to sleep," he said yet didn't move from the spot. "You go, too. You've operated thirty-four people. It's the new world record, I think."

Law nodded again. The level of adrenaline, now that he no longer stimulated its secretion, was dropping quickly in his blood. Suddenly, even speaking seemed to require more energy he could muster, although he still had enough strength to keep his eyes open. Sitting on the stool, he wondered if it'd been always so hard to breath, but then he decided that actually he felt quite okay here. He couldn't imagine himself going anywhere. He didn't want to expose himself to the daylight; he was perfectly happy with that white, cool light over his head. He didn't want to immerse himself in the daily noise of the hospital; soft beeping of the monitors suited him the best now.

It was over. Actually, it wasn't yet, not before the last injured person returned home. But it was _for now,_ and he could finally start comprehend it. The patients were no longer in any danger, they had full chance to recover and sooner or later would be discharged. It wouldn't be possible if not for the team tending to them, together with Law. Surgeons, neurosurgeons and orthopaedists, nurses, scrub nurses and technicians. All of them - their number, their readiness and, above all, their skills - had made it possible that _thirty-four_ people had been operated. That thirty-four people had been saved.

Law realised that everything had proceeded like in a machine. There'd been no chaos, no shouting, no pushing, no ignorance. Even if someone had grown weak, they'd been immediately replaced by another person. No-one had failed, no negligence had happened; no link had broken. Everyone's action had been excellent, starting from the dispatchers, through the paramedics in the ambulances, ending with the staff here. His people had once again risen to the challenge... and despite his terrible fatigue he felt extremely proud of them. He would have to thank them.

"Hey, you expect me to carry you up?" Bepo muttered; Law had managed to forget about him already. "I don't think I can... I can try to help you to the lift, hmm... Or maybe we should call someone."

Law opened his eyes - he'd shut them at some point, after all - and stared at the door. It was at least twenty metres to the lift... but he was perfectly sure that if he teleported, he would make it only to the second floor... and he had enough of surgery, at least for today. The lift was the only option.

He rose, swayed a little but immediately regained his balance, without even needing a wall. A big nurse came quickly to his side, but Law only shook his head and pointed at Bepo, who seemed to fall asleep sitting. "Help him, I'm fine," he said and was surprised he'd managed to put such a long sentence together.

He focused on the way he'd had ahead. It was just twenty metres, just twenty metres, he would manage... He was in the doorway when he heard, "Thanks."

He turned around to glance at Bepo, who was looking at him with his eyes half closed. He raised one hand in a response - only at the height of his chest, though - and nodded, then resumed walking. The lift seemed to be closer he'd assumed... and much more cosy he'd expected. Somehow, he managed to stay on his feet, but the real feat was that on his way he stopped by his secretary. Leaning against the doorframe, he ordered that she deleted his schedule for today, for he planned to arrange it anew later.

With his last strength, he dragged himself into the room behind his office that served as his flat. He dropped into bed with his clothes on and feel asleep before his head touched the pillow.

* * *

He waked up after three hour; he never slept longer than that. Like always, he was immediately fully conscious, which was convenient today, for he didn't need to wonder why he'd slept when the clock was showing it was 1 PM and it was a bright day outside. The events of the last night came back to him very sharply, along with the feeling of a good job done, both his own and the others'. Still, there was no reason to celebrate. First he had to make sure that the patients were okay; they probably were, otherwise he wouldn't have slept those three hours. If anything bad had happened, he would have been waked up. In any case, he had to tend to those injuries that weren't life-threatening, so he was far from being relaxed.

He took a shower and ate a snack; he always kept some in his room, just in case. He ordered his secretary to make a list of the staff members working last night in the emergency unit. All of them were to receive extra payment, and those who had reported to work from homes should get also an official commendation. The secretary of the emergency unit informed him where the operated patients had been forwarded; some were in the intensive care unit, but most of them were on the surgery and orthopaedics wards in the second floor, some on the internal ward on the third, and several on the neurology on the seventh. Law made a round through those wards. He wanted to see those thirty-four people who last night had passed through his hands and the Ope Ope no Mi, to see by himself they were no longer in any danger.

And it was really so. He assessed every person's condition to be stable, all vitals within norm. Some were asleep, but others were awake. They didn't have any major complaints; the analgetics were working. More than ten of the injured required additional surgeries, mostly organ reconstruction. Over half of those treatments Law could perform by the patient's bed, especially rebuilding the damaged muscles and bones that he'd had to completely removed. He decided to take care of it in the evening, once he was done with the neurological patients, whom he preferred to treat in the operating theatre. He wrote a provisional schedule and handed it to the nurse - they were to start in twenty minutes - and returned to the hall to go down again.

He was about to enter the lift when he heard, "Law, wait!"

He turned around to see Clione, approaching from the psychiatric said. Seeing him stirred some unpleasant emotion, and Law frowned, remembering the conversation they'd had yesterday... the conversation that had been cut off by the alarm in the worst moment. Or maybe it was the best moment? he wondered distractedly. He had an absurd thought that, had he'd known he would land in psychoanalysis... he would have rather chosen a date. However, he didn't want to think of it now... not when he had much more important things to do.

"I have surgeries. I can't talk now," he said, holding the door of the lift nevertheless.

"Then, at least we'll go downstairs together," the psychiatrist replied.

Law said nothing, only pressed the button with 1. He felt uncomfortable... that was, more than usually around Clione. He hoped the psychiatrist wouldn't bring up the yesterday's topic - after a busy night he had too good mood and didn't want it to be spoiled - but he could feel the colleague's penetrating gaze and prepared for the worst. The lift was moving terribly slowly.

"Are you all right?" Clione asked. "I heard you operated the whole night..."

"I'm fine," Law replied, shrugging.

Clione nodded. "We organised the psychological assistance on Segvel for the injured and their relatives," he said. "They need it very much... It was a real massacre, over thirty fatalities..." He rubbed his forehead. "Our team is still there, I suppose they'll stay at least until tomorrow... It's a good thing that I was still in work yesterday. And that you had just treated our patients. Thanks to that, the ward is very quiet, so I could dispatch most of the staff members. A blessing in disguise."

Law glanced at him. The psychiatrist looked tired, and even more than him. "Did you sleep?" he asked reluctantly.

"I did," came the short answer.

The lift stopped at the first floor. Law nodded to his colleague and left... but he turned around and stopped the closing door. "Thanks, Clione," he said sincerely.

The psychiatrist stared at him in surprise, then gave him a warm smile and raised one hand with his thumb up. "Thank you too," he replied. "Good job."

The lift door closed without a sound. Law headed for his operating theatre. He expected it to be empty today; the secretary must have notified Shachi and Penguin that the scheduled surgeries were cancelled. It seemed to Law, too, that they both had been working last night in the emergency unit, so he was certain they were sleeping off now... Well, he would organise himself other help.

Much to his surprise, his both assistants were present. Shachi was yawning terribly, while Penguin was staring blankly ahead, an empty paper cup in his hand, but they jumped to their feet upon seeing him... or, rather, dragged themselves up from their stools.

"First question: did you get any rest?" he asked.

"Yeah..." Penguin answered.

"We knew you wouldn't sleep longer than three hours, boss," Shachi added and yawned again. "And that you would want to operate today."

"You were up all night?"

"Yeah..." Penguin muttered.

"And then you slept? Here?" Law asked, disbelief and irony mixing in his voice. They both nodded. Law rolled his eyes. "You know what, three hours is enough for me, but not for you. You are to return home and not show your faces around here until tomorrow. It's the director's order," he raised his voice when they both objected.

"And I already drank a coffee," Penguin complained.

"It'll help you get to your own bed," Law retorted.

"But couldn't you stimulate us a bit, boss? You know, adrenaline, dopamine, and all..." Shachi suggested hopefully.

Law, however, was merciless. "We see each other tomorrow at 8 AM sharp. Get a good rest, because we have to make up for today," he announced.

Reluctantly, Shachi and Penguin moved to the exit. Shachi muttered something under his breath between the yawns, and Penguin tried to throw the paper mug to the trash bin, but he succeeded only at his third attempt. It convinced Law that he'd made the right choice, sending those two home. Exhausted staff was the last thing he needed during the major surgery. He called to the surgery ward and requested two rested nurses to assist him. They came in a few minutes, and then the first patient arrived from the neurology. In the meantime, Law contacted his secretary and requested her to pass the message to all heads of the departments; they should pick up everyone who had stayed in hospital despite having worked in the emergency unit last night, and send them home immediately. There could be more daredevils like Shachi and Penguin, although he preferred to believe that most of his workers had followed the voice of reason and were now resting.

Regeneration of the brain tissue wasn't the easier procedure in the world, but it was still perfectly possible with the Ope Ope no Mi. Many patients had suffered from the skull injuries causing the destruction of the entire fragments of brain; there were also three with severed spinal cord. In their cases, Law had to rebuild the neurons or even cultivate new ones. He didn't have such moral dilemmas like in psychiatry. He considered the possible personality change as an acceptable 'side effect'. No-one could function with the severe deficit in the cortex, that was obvious, so its regeneration took priority over psychological questions.

These surgeries were completely different than those he'd performed last night. There was no need to rush, and he could focus on one patient at a time. He was no longer saving life, only health. There was no need to enhance his organism or stimulate his nervous system; his basic reserves and activity level were enough. Patiently and systematically, he was repairing the brain tissue, careful to make no mistakes. He precisely recreated the nerve fibres and attached them to their corresponding cells. The reconstruction of an eye was an interesting challenge that ended in a full success and, Law hoped, the patient's satisfaction.

It was nearly 8 PM when he was done with the neurological patients. He had a quick dinner in the canteen, interrupted by brief congratulations and words of thanks from those workers who had dared to approach him, and then set about treating those patients he didn't need any assist with. He cautiously calculated he should finish today, which he rejoiced; he couldn't relax as long as there were patients who needed his intervention.

It was almost midnight when he deactivated the Ope Ope no Mi for the last time. The patient with an extensive abdomen injury had got a new liver and a spleen along with the substantial part of his digestive tract, and was now sleeping, unaware of the changes that had happened to his body. Law rose from the chair... and the darkness fell.

* * *

He opened his eyes and realised he was lying on the couch in the room of the doctor on duty... probably of the surgery ward, for it was where he'd been treating his last patient. Instinctively, he reached to the Ope Ope no Mi, but before he managed to say, 'ROOM', a furry hand fell on his forehead.

"Don't check, everything is fine with you... At least as much as possible in this situation," Bepo said, and when Law tilted his head back, he saw the mink, sitting on the armrest. "You've already used the Ope Ope no Mi too much."

Law ignored that comment and activated his Devil Fruit. He had to make sure everything was okay with his organism himself. It was.

"How long was I unconscious?" he asked.

"Some twenty minutes," Bepo replied. "Though I'd rather it be twenty hours," he added sourly.

"Nonsense."

"How long did you sleep today? Three hours?" the mink asked, obviously displeased.

Law ignored that, either. "Who knows about it?" he inquired.

"Surgeon on duty and both nurses on the night shift. One of them was in the corridor when she heard a thud coming from the patient's room. She almost panicked, seeing you unconscious on the floor. Fortunately, the doctor was free at the moment, so he examined you and ordered to bring you here. And called for me."

Law covered his eyes with his arm and suppressed a curse... There was no point denying what had happened. He'd fainted, and that was all.

"Well, right... Save for short breaks, I was using the Ope Ope no Mi for some forty hours straight," he muttered.

"Hey, you're suddenly so agreeable it's creepy," now there was clear suspicion in Bepo's voice.

"Well, everyone knows that using it affects my strength," Law admitted reluctantly. "Apparently, three hours of sleep is too little to regenerate fully..."

"I could tell you as much myself."

"Fortunately, it was a really unique situation. Disasters don't happen every day," Law stated the truth and sat up, putting his feet on the floor. As he expected, he didn't feel dizzy.

"Hey..."

"I'm going to bed," he declared. "Tomorrow... I mean, _today_ I'm going to have a hell of a lot of work."

"You're not thinking about working normally, are you?" Bepo asked in disbelief.

Law looked at him, frowning. "Of course I am," he replied coldly but then added in a more gentle voice, "Don't worry, I'm fine and-"

"You should have rested today," Bepo interrupted him with anger. "But you slept just a moment and resumed working, like a total moron. Only to faint on the ward, in the end."

"I finished already," Law pointed out.

"Does it change anything? When are you going to finally look after yourself? After you faint _during_ treatment? On the operating table or the patient's bed?"

Law shrugged. "It's not going to happen. Now I'm off to sleep, okay? You're overreacting."

The mink clenched his jaws and averted his eyes. He seemed really upset.

"Bepo. I'm a doctor. I know my organism and my condition the best," Law said in a serious voice. It was really so. "And thanks to the Ope Ope no Mi my body has much greater endurance. You may consider me as... some kind of superhuman," he stated, and those words sounded stupid only spoken aloud.

Bepo stared at him in disbelief. Law wanted to know what the mink thought... and then decided he was happier without knowing. He averted his eyes, but he was still aware of Bepo's gaze.

"You think it's worth it?" the mink asked in the end, and there was some disappointment in his tone.

"I save lives. Of course it's worth it!" Law snorted.

Bepo shook his head. "I'm a doctor, too. And I too save lives... but I'm also your friend," he said, clearly trying to remain calm. "And I think that if I had to choose between you and someone else... then I would choose you, after all. I'm sorry, but I don't want to see my friend _work himself to death...!"_

Those words reminded Law the conversation with Clione from yesterday... and all previous ones he'd had with other people, always aiming at the same topic. He felt the good mood that had been accompanying him for the whole day bust like a bubble, when a sudden thought struck him: no matter what he did, no matter how he tried, he met only with _criticism_. The greatest doctor in the world? Miracle-medic? If that was so, then why everyone, instead of appreciating him, kept coming down on him and flooding him with their demands? They admired and respected him? Valued his work? When? Laughable. How could he believe it, if there was so much inconsistency in what they said and did?

And even if he realised, with some part of his mind, that he was distorting and bending the picture to suit his needs, he didn't feel like giving it a sober assessment. Emotions wanted to explode, and no warning voice of the reason could stop them. Grievance was too strong.

"Why do you always say only that?!" he shouted angrily. "Every one of you. I can't but think you only wait that I really drop dead. And then you will be finally happy, damn you!"

"Stop it. Of course we don't-"

"I don't know how many times should I tell you I'm all right! You could trust me, okay? But don't expect that I suddenly change how I live my life. You know me. You know my way of doing things. Don't try to turn me into someone else. I'm not going to give up what is important to me, only because you don't like it!"

Bepo was staring at him in silence that fell between them, so thick it could be cut with a scalpel and so empty one could hear the sweep hand of the clock on the table. With every tick and every noiseless breath, Law felt worse. His heart was beating too fast and too hard, and he clenched his fists, although it was much too late to try and compose himself... too late to do anything. Right after he'd finished, he knew he shouldn't have spoken that way, regardless of the situation. Even if he really thought so... he shouldn't have said those things to Bepo, of all people. For some reason, however, apology stuck in his throat, and thus he kept silent, with his gaze fixed on the floor.

"I said too much," the mink finally spoke in a cold, emotionless voice after the whole infinity had passed, and then he continued, his every word drilling into Law's conscience, "You're right, I went too far. It was a hard day for all of us, and I made a mountain out of the molehill. I should have chosen my words better."

Like always, he was the first to fix the situation, and Law, with self-contempt, realised he'd counted exactly for that. In fact, Bepo wasn't at fault here... and yet he was ready to take the blame, so that they didn't part on bad terms. What he'd just said... It was something that should have came from Law, every single word. Law was painfully aware of that... and yet he did nothing, didn't make a single gesture, didn't answer Bepo's goodwill in any way. He only pressed his lips in a thin line and kept staring at the floor, without even seeing it.

"Don't let me keep you. You were going to bed," the mink said, rising from the armrest. "Good night. See you tomorrow." He left, closing the door softly behind him.

Law put both elbows on his knees and rubbed his face with both hands. He didn't remember the last time he'd been so frustrated with himself. He kept sitting like that for a longer while, then jumped to his feet and headed for the lift.

He wondered briefly it it wouldn't be better if Bepo finally, even once, got really mad at him, instead of always succumbing to him and retreating diplomatically. Maybe it would finally sober him and put him straight... Then he came to the conclusion he couldn't possibly be more pathetic. He was an adult man, and responsibility for his actions was only his. He couldn't expect anyone else tell him what to do. He didn't want it; he'd just yelled it in Bepo's face... and he felt terribly mortified by having done so.

Deep inside, however, he knew that even if Bepo lost his patience with him and stopped forgiving him everything... he would probably accept it and leave it be. It led to an unpleasant conclusion that he merely _tolerated_ people around him, not felt _attached_ to them... Not that it was any news. Even if Bepo was his closest friend, he wasn't someone Law necessarily needed in his life, no matter how cruel or ungrateful it was on his part. He didn't feel good with that... but that was how he felt. He knew he didn't deserve others' affection, for he couldn't reciprocate it. Maybe it was why their concern infuriated him so much.

Again, he remembered what Clione had told him yesterday. The damned psychiatrist was every inch right, even if Law hadn't yet reached all conclusions himself... mostly because he didn't like to think of his own psyche and hardly ever did so. Either way, it was true that he didn't see any other sense in his life than his work, and if he were to work himself to death... then so be it. Nothing others might say could affect his resolve and his actions. Those people weren't important enough to make him value their views over his own. In his life, there was no such people anymore...

The room he used to sleep in was quiet and dark, but he could see the outline of the window. He approached it and opened, letting the cold, autumn air inside. He stared at the sea, spreading before his eyes in the infinite black, devoid of any light. He took himself a chair and sat down, resting the cheek on the cold sill. He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of waves. He could no longer stop his thought that ran it that specific direction, even if he was perfectly aware he would feel worse, and that was why he hardly ever let himself do so...

Once, there was a man in his life, who could change his destiny. One man who hadn't cared at all about his furious objections, only determinedly and stubbornly had paved the new way for him. Man who had spared no laughter and tears, no sweat and blood to help him. Man who had pulled him out of death with teeth and claws and fought for his soul until his last breath. Man who had loved him so strongly and so deeply that he hadn't hesitated even on the very last crossing of his life, only had rushed headlong with a smile of a certain victory to save him and guarantee he would live, and Law still didn't know... didn't understand why.

_Cora-san._

A familiar pain spread in his chest, squeezing his heart and choking him. Cora-san was the only man who could stop him on this path leading to the inevitable self-destruction... If he appeared here, said it was all wrong, called Law a moron and ordered him to stop... then Law wouldn't hesitate a second. If Cora-san asked that, Law would close this hospital up and never use the Ope Ope no Mi again. If Cora-san were here, everything else would be of no importance.

But Cora-san had been dead for twenty-six years, and Law knew better than anyone else that there was no point in conjecturing, for some wishes just couldn't be fulfilled. In place of the man who had saved him, he had the Ope Ope no Mi and life devoid of hope. He could use it only in one way. It was simply 'this for that'... even if he'd never asked for such an exchange.

He kept sitting by the window until the cold swept into his bones; still, it wasn't any bitter than the pain crushing his heart. In the end, nothing had changed, and his life hadn't turned any more pleasant, but he hadn't expected that. Yet, even if nothing could console him... realising that tomorrow wouldn't be worse than today helped a bit. He went to bed, knowing he wouldn't have any dreams tonight either.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

November wasn't Law's favourite month; actually, it was one of those he liked the least. It was in November that the first snow usually fell on Raftel; it also marked Corazon's death anniversary. Law didn't use any other calendar than the one in his head, which meant he didn't have the encircled date he would stare at every day sitting by his desk, but he was still painfully aware That Day would come this year too. And since it was the end of the month in question, he had almost four weeks of foul mood caused by reflecting and reminiscing that he could do nothing about; they would come against his will.

Fortunately, he hadn't much time to allow himself prolonged reflecting and reminiscing. He filled his days with the patient work; in addition, this year he had plans of expansion of the hospital and increasing the number of the admissions on his hand. Of course, he didn't attend to it himself - a project director had been hired - but he demanded that the most important aspects were consulted with him. He made it the springboard for all less cheerful topics and issues. If there was possibility of curing even more patients, it was good enough reason for Law to feel content, and he needed that.

His relation with Bepo returned to normal as soon as the next day after their argument, although Law thought an 'argument' wasn't the right word to describe the situation he'd behaved like a total git in... In any case, they continued dealing with one another as if nothing had happened, and that suited Law the best. On the one hand, he knew Bepo hadn't deserved such treatment, but on the other... He felt he was right. What he'd said was his own sincere view, not something he'd made up on the spot to fit the conversation.

Law didn't consider himself to be someone who attacked other people on a whim; he felt he'd been provoked to say what he'd said. He couldn't accept that someone else told him how he should live, no matter the reason. To be able to decide for himself was the supreme value to him, and the thought he might lose that control filled him with anxiety. Maybe it too resulted from the Amber Lead Syndrome, that had once robbed him of everything he'd held dear. It made sense that the damned illness, despite having been defeated, could affect his life even now, after all those years.

Moreover, whenever his decisions were being questioned - when someone didn't agree with him, leading to confrontation - he saw it as a criticism or even an assault. He was used to his infallibility. And even if he knew that being the greatest expert in the medical field didn't automatically equalled being the wisest man in the world, he still regarded himself smart enough to be right also about other aspects of his life. When others thought they knew him better... when they gave him their advices, even out of good will... he received it as, 'You're stupid'. Trafalgar Law didn't like to be considered stupid, and if there was anything he was proud of, it would be his intellect.

Clione would probably tell him he'd got it all wrong... but Law avoided the head psychiatrist as much as possible. He didn't want to hear the words of wisdom about himself anymore, and he didn't believe Clione might tell him anything that would be to his benefit. Their conversation from the last month, even though he tried not to think of it, was still on his mind and used to return to him in the least expected - and desired - moments.

The truth was he didn't see any sense to his life. Nothing had changed about it for twenty-six years: he lived only because of the Ope Ope no Mi. If not for the Ope Ope no Mi, he wouldn't have lived until his fourteenth birthday... and if not for the Ope Ope no Mi, he would have killed himself before his fourteenth birthday, back then, on Minion. Corazon's death had touched him in every possible way and changed him forever. It had left him alone in the world, without a single friendly soul, but with the sense of guilt he'd never managed to get rid of. Cora-san had lost his life to save him, even when it was Trafalgar Law who should have died. Cora-san, the best, the greatest man under the sun had gone to meet death with a smile, as if it had been nothing, even though he'd had the whole future ahead. No, after that nothing could be the same.

That time Law, although he hadn't wished anything but to join Corazon, somehow had managed to quell that feeling of guilt and had decided to accept the gift of life that had come to him for an extremely high price. He'd managed to convince himself that only living he would be able to honour Corazon, even if it'd seemed the biggest injustice in the world. So, he'd done everything to survive and had found himself, for the next thirteen years, a surrogate sense of life: vengeance against Doflamingo. For those thirteen years, he'd forgotten about his remorse, pushing it deep into his unconsciousness. He'd cut himself off that little boy who'd lost everything dear and couldn't see any value in what he'd got instead. He'd figured out and mastered the Ope Ope no Mi, developing to perfection every skill the Devil Fruit had given him. He'd devoted his whole time to create and the execute the plan, its final aim being the downfall of the hated enemy. He'd convinced himself it was Doflamingo who'd pulled the trigger, and had forgotten that it had happened because of him, Trafalgar D. Water Law.

And later, when Doflamingo had been brought to his knees and stripped of his power, then Law had had to once again flee from that emptiness in his heart, pushing against him from every side and threatening to engulf him. He'd become the greatest doctor in the world and started to use the Ope Ope no Mi to help others. He'd opened the Corazon Memorial Hospital so that with every moment and every deed he could honour the man who'd sacrificed everything for him. He'd engaged fully in treating and saving human lives. Just like Cora-san before, he too had wanted to show that there was nothing larger than life.

However, just like Clione had said, there was no joy to that, just sense of duty, There was no happiness, just realisation that he was doing what he should. As long as everything went well, he felt stable, but when something deviated from the norm he'd set, he started to feel anxious. Usually, he didn't think of all those things; he managed to conveniently forget about the deeper motives of his actions and delude himself that everything is like he wanted. The more work he had, the less time to think or wonder about his life. He went to bed past midnight and rose before 4 AM. He talked more to the patients than to the colleagues. He used the Ope Ope no Mi and sometimes only his brain to practise medicine. He didn't spoke of his past; no, he never really recalled it. And Cora-san... He'd built the memorial of him, so that he didn't need to think of him anymore, for the memory of love would always tear his heart to pieces.

All those were defence mechanisms, barriers he'd erected around his tormented soul to be able to function. And it was all in vain, for he kept facing the situations when someone destroyed them, sometimes unconsciously, with a single random word. They would show Law his own soul, force him to look at that ruin and that emptiness that had eaten almost everything and still hadn't enough. In such moments, Law turned into that thirteen-year-old boy, who had had to choose between life and death on Minion.

So far, every time he'd chosen life. So far, he'd managed to convince himself he should live, for it was what mattered. As long as he had something he could give others - as long as some good could be done in this world, even the smallest one - he should just move on. He didn't even assume that something good might happen to _him_; he saw his existence as a penalty and didn't believe he could ever atone for his crime of bringing death to Corazon. However, he realised that every time it was a bit harder to choose, to motivate himself to life... and unconsciously he felt relieved waiting for the day he would tell himself, 'Enough'.

But it wouldn't happen this day, this month, this year yet. In the fortieth November of his life, he once more managed to close that wound, let it be covered with the thin layer of clot, and believed it would heal just right; he'd once more managed to push all painful things into his subconscious, as if they'd never existed. It took him one week or so, and during that time he was so gloomy that most employers approached him only when it was absolutely necessary, and only Bepo kept him company like before, although even he didn't try to force him into conversation. If Law could find any positives about the situation, it would be the fact that all 'friendly' remarks he'd had to listen for the whole previous month, finally ended.

November was passing quite normally in the Corazon Memorial Hospital, and the only incident worth mentioning was a massacre that the Roronoa Zoro Sword Tournament ended in. Law didn't remember who had come with the idea of the annual event that then had started to take place on Raftel on Zoro's birthday, but most certainly it wasn't the former first mate of the Straw Hat Crew. Suffice it to say that the tournament used to gather the participants from all seas, who, in this particular place at the end of the world, wished to have their names engraved in gold as victors and prove the greatest swordsman in the history that he had worthy successors... or that he should be careful not to let himself be pushed down from the pedestal of the undefeated. It didn't matter that Zoro was usually off Raftel... although Law suspected that even if he were here, he wouldn't care about those games more than about his afternoon nap.

This time, however, Law wished Zoro had been here. He was perfectly certain that the man wouldn't have allowed the slaughter that happened because of the cursed sword brought by one of the participants, although the correct way to describe this would be that the sword used the man. Before he was restrained, the poor fellow managed to cut over twenty people. The victims were saved only because the medical team covering the event had wit enough to contact the hospital immediately, and Law appeared on site just a few seconds later. He hoped that incident would teach the organisers to have a better look at the weapons the participants came with, or to protect the event in a more proficient way. That the tournament itself would pass into history, he had no hopes for. Like the ancients used to say: people needed bread and circuses.

In the end of November, there was still no snow on the Pirate King's island, at least not in its lower parts, for the usually misty mountains always welcomed winter earlier. One day, something white did sprinkled down from the sky for a few hours, but Law was too busy to admire the scenery outside, and in the evening, when he went onto the balcony, the ground was again nicely dark, as were the trees. Autumn this year had been mild and warm, and without any bigger storms that would give the hospital more work. There were no disasters either, not that Law expected them. Even if he had the greatest feeling saving lives, he'd rather not have people suffer.

When the month was reaching its end, That Day finally came. Law had tried not to think of it, but he subconsciously had been awaiting it - with hope he would be able to regain his earlier balance and maybe for another year forget those matters that unpleasantly gnawed at his mind and didn't let him calm down. Every year, meeting Sengoku-san filled him with the conflicting emotions. On the one hand, he would gladly left his past behind and never return to it... but on the other hand, it seemed to him that, no matter how he denied it, he needed that occasion to talk about Corazon with the only person he could to. Somehow, when with Sengoku-san, the memories didn't tear him to pieces, only soothed his longing and pain, if only for a single evening. That was why, even though sometimes he hoped that the retired admiral would call and inform he wouldn't come to Raftel this year - after all, he was already over ninety - the old man's sight drew very warm feelings inside him every time.

He held Sengoku-san in high esteem, one he hadn't felt towards anyone else. Deep inside, he suspected that he needed some kind of an authority figure, for he'd never cleared the stage of securely detaching from those older and wiser; he'd lost all of them too early, too suddenly. Or maybe something in his personality - even though he considered himself to be a self-sufficient man, valuing his personal freedom the most - wished for a larger person he could sometimes lean on, just a bit, just in his mind, and feel relieved there was someone above him to approve his decisions.

Almost everything divided them: age, social status, views, and yet what connected them was much more important and had created the bridge over the gulf of differences. Sengoku-san was the first person Law had told about his dream of the hospital on Raftel and had received support from. Actually, he'd received much more, above all the assurance he wasn't the most wretched man in the history, like he'd often believed. If the retired admiral still wanted to visit him, year by year setting on a long journey to the end of the world, only to meet the man his son had died because of... it somehow comforted him. Speaking to Sengoku-san, he could believe, if only for a few hours, that love begot only good, never evil, just like the old man had once said.

It was 3 PM sharp when Law was standing by the hospital gate, paying no attention to the frost nipping at his ears. With the temperature just below zero, the day was fine, and the window had calmed. Listening to the screams of the gulls, he was watching out for his guest on the way from the harbour. He'd many times offered Sengoku-san to pick him up or provide the transportation, but the retired admiral would always answer that he didn't want to be treated like a decrepit old man; his body was agile enough to have a short walk, and his mind was still bright so he remembered the way. With equal enthusiasm he related to Law's suggestion that they sat in the warmer place. In late November, they would find quite a few more pleasant locations that the yard of a hospital that was standing on the sea coast, but Sengoku-san, just like Law himself, seemed to be insensitive to cold and insisted on spending those few hours in the arbour that provided them with the good outlook at the front of the hospital and the signboard over the main entrance.

Soon, Law could spot the big frame of the former Fleet Admiral of the Navy emerging from behind the bend. Sengoku was approaching at a leisurely pace, and even from the distance it was obvious he was in a good mood. Seeing his host in the gate, he raised one hand and waved, and Law felt warmth tickling him in the chest, even though he felt like rolling his eyes at the same time. Once again, he realised that for Sengoku-san this day and this meeting weren't an observance of grieving. The man who had become Cora-san's... Donquixote Rosinante's new father, had long since accepted his son's death. Law wished he could say the same about himself.

"Hello, hello!" the elderly gentleman called out, waving with the bag he probably had various snacks in. "It's a fine day, don't you think?"

"Good afternoon, Sengoku-san. As for the weather... Every will do, as long as there's no snow," Law greeted him.

When the former admiral came closer, he invited him to the hospital grounds. As they walked towards the familiar arbour, he quickly surveyed his guest and was relieved to see the man looked as healthy as he had the last time. In fact, Sengoku the Budda had hardly ever aged during those years Law had known him; only his white hair and wrinkles around his eyes indicated how old he was. He held up great for a man who was over ninety. His back was straight, his body was still muscular, and his mind was bright and hungry for knowledge. It was with delight that Law always listened to the stories of the retired Marine's new objects of interest.

"I hope you had a good journey, Sengoku-san."

"Good and boring," his guest admitted. "But I at least managed to finish reading the detective story series. Afterwards, though, I'm of the opinion it wasn't worthy of my time, so if you ever come across it," he said the title, "I warn you against it. I could tell right away who was the culprit, regardless of the author's efforts to twist the plot in order to pull the wool over the reader's eyes."

It was one of Sengoku's traits Law could never fully comprehend: an unusual vitality the man radiated despite his age. Law suspected, however, that something like that wasn't connected to the person's age at all; some people simply were able to celebrate every moment of their life, never letting the past or the future hinder them. So far, he'd met at least a few men like that, and even though such enthusiasm to live perplexed or annoyed him, he usually, deep inside, admired them and marvelled at them, for they seemed to possess a skill that was unattainable for him.

"Sengoku-san, I'm glad to see you're healthy," he sad once they'd settled in the familiar arbour he always reserved for that one afternoon. "You're bursting with the joy of life, which I find desirable, as a doctor."

"It's easy to feel the joy of life when one has retired," the ninety-two-year-old man replied, giving him an intent look. "No worries, no troubles... If you suggest I was so happy-go-lucky during my active service, then I must disappoint you. Most people in my surroundings considered me to be an antisocial grouch or gloomy bear."

Law found it difficult to imagine that someone wearing the colourful shirts with the fancy patterns could be considered glum, but he didn't comment. He opened the thermos with green tea they always started with, before proceeding to the hard liquors, and poured it to the two mugs. In the meantime, Sengoku unpacked his luggage; like always, he brought a lot of rice crackers, but also some completely new snacks. He liked to experiment.

"Just look at this, sweet potato and red bean flavoured cookies. Have you ever seen anything like that?" he exclaimed with enthusiasm, reading the etiquettes. "Chocolate with chilli, bless my soul... And here we have balls with fazifa... What is fazifa?"

"I have no idea," Law replied truthfully. It seemed that his guest had just swept the content of the snack shelf into his bag, without paying attention to the products. "Sengoku-san, you shouldn't buy food that you don't know even their names..."

"Come on, the name isn't important... What matters is how it tastes. And that fazifa," the former Fleet Admiral drew the package closer to his eyes, "is the latest thing in the West Blue. You should try something at least once; only then you will know if you haven't just missed something extraordinary," he said smoothly and reached for the mug.

Law could understand the idea, but personally he preferred to stick to what he knew well. Routine helped to avoid disappointment...

"Good tea," Sengoku approved, adding, "Every year the same."

...although maybe not everyone liked it. "You'd rather have another one?" Law asked faintly.

Sengoku stared at him closely. "I said it's good," he reminded, taking a handful of crackers. "You know I'm an admirer of sencha, and nothing beats that from Wano, quality-wise. It fits our meal perfectly, too."

Law drank his tea, observing the retired admiral feast on the rice crackers.

"You should have some, too, there's more than enough," Sengoku urged him, pushing the bag in Law's direction. "In the hospital, everything is all right?" he asked and then added in a somewhat critical way, "At least it's still standing. It's a success, so close to the Pirate King..."

Every year, they would talk about the same things - Raftel and the Corazon Memorial Hospital, about the pirates and the politics, about the past and the future, even about drinks and food - and yet Law didn't mind it in the slightest. Normally, he avoided such topics, considering them to be waste of time, but discussing them with Sengoku-san came naturally to him... maybe because he hadn't bothered his head with them for the whole year.

"You have too poor opinion of him," he said, taking one brown cookie and biting it. "Even Straw Hat wouldn't destroy his own island."

"I will always consider him a chaos incarnate. Or maybe I spent too much time with his grandfather," Sengoku admitted. "It seems to me I look at Grap in his younger days. The very same bravado in combination with inhuman strength. Do you know how Garp used to sink the pirate ships? He threw the _cannonballs_ at them. Can you imagine?" he asked with fake outrage.

Law could. Straw Hat Luffy, too, never cared about making any detailed plan for his attack, and instead he usually started with banging his enemies with a rubber cannonade. Apparently, such things were hereditary.

"The hospital is fine," he said. "We plan to build an additional wing and increase the number of admissions."

"Are you not going to have any trouble recruiting new personnel? You do plan to employ more people, right?"

"Of course. No, there should be no problem. People are actually lining up to work here; we can't employ everyone."

"No wonder since it's the best hospital in the history in question," Sengoku muttered, glancing at him. "By the way, I read about that catastrophe last month, that was terrible... People shouldn't get killed during peacetime... The only good thing is that the Ministry of Labour started to set quality standards for the factory buildings," he informed. "Everyone planning to open a workplace would have to meet those standards in order to get permission. Maybe it will guarantee that such tragedies won't happen in the future."

Law nodded. Even though those who had died on Segvel couldn't be brought to life, if their deaths could prevent new ones, it was without doubt a good thing. Once again, he appreciated the fact that the public media existed; it seemed that the exposure of that incident had forced some actions that would be beneficial for the citizens. "It's good to know that the government is on the side of citizens... that there are finally incorrupt people in power," he said.

Sengoku gave him a disbelieving look and drank some tea. "In every government... No, in every _organisation_ are corrupt people," he said in a tone as if he was explaining it to a kid. "There's no such thing like perfect authorities, even if someone basically honest, like Sabo, stands at the top. Important is that those dishonest don't form _majority_... that there's more decent people." He ate a few cookies before continuing. "I think it's so, now. As you said, the government is on the side of the common people and acts for their benefit, you can see it everywhere. New schools, public hospitals, better care for the disabled, one law for all people... of course, not everyone likes it. In just this year, two attempts on Sabo's life were prevented. No telling how many of them had actually happened, for Sabo never discloses about such things," he muttered. "Well, we must take comfort in knowledge that thanks to his past in the Revolutionary Army he can protect himself from any attack."

Law was eating the crackers in silence. He'd met Sabo in his pirate years already, during the fight with Doflamingo. Luffy's sworn brother had made a good impression on him, mostly because he could think rationally, contrary to that hothead ruling currently on Raftel... although Law suspected he would recognise _anyone_ opposing the usurper of Dressrosa and helping to dethrone him. In any case, after the whole affair with the One Piece and poneglyphs had been over, and the world had stood on the threshold of change, it had appeared that Sabo had been a real visionary. After the revolution and bringing the Celestial Dragons down, Sabo had seemed to be the right candidate to establish new order. And he hadn't failed those hopes, using all his talents to serve the humanity. Sensitive to social abuse as a kid already, he had spared no effort to improve the citizens' lot, and it seemed he'd performed well. At his initiative, the World Government had expanded, which had ensured the protection and help to those countries that couldn't count on it before. Law wasn't surprised that someone like Sabo was an aim of the terrorist attacks, but he had no doubt that the user of the Mera Mera no Mi could ensure his own safety.

"Back to the topic, though... I heard you've saved forty people injured in that catastrophe on Segvel," Sengoku's voice interrupted his musing.

Law winced. "Exaggeration. It was thirty-four," he rectified.

His guest ignored that comment. "And there was that massacre on the sword tournament, too... Media keep rhapsodising over your actions, if only they get some material... And it should be so, you deserve to be famous. Although... You know that someone tried to release a magazine about you? But it published only some crazy stories that had nothing to do with reality, probably being only the editor's wild fantasies. Fortunately, it was quickly discontinued." Law hadn't known, but it was all the same to him. "You give no interviews, so the journalists have no information about you, and how long can you write about that the greatest doctor in the world was once a pirate? It's hardly any sensation, especially now that the piracy is viewed in a much more favourable way..."

"If I were to give interviews, on top of everything, then I probably would have to give up on sleeping," Law said mockingly and then, upon remembering something, looked at Sengoku. "Is it true that they modified the criminal law? And the word 'pirate' was changed to a 'sea robber'?" he asked.

Sengoku nodded. "True, true... Late Fleet Admirals must be turning in their graves," he declared ironically. "But what could you do? People demanded that themselves. The last decade or so clearly showed that a pirate didn't equal a villain. It was the pirates, not all of course, that are the benefactors of the humanity. It was you who had found the One Piece and discovered the historical truth, it was you who triggered the transformation. The Pirate King is an idol for the most kids... Their parents couldn't exactly teach them that he is an evil man, just like earlier, could they? That's why nowadays everyone is allowed to be a pirate... A pirate just means someone living at sea, not a criminal."

Law thought he had never expected such day to come... and yet Monkey D. Luffy could make even something like that possible. The truth was, however, that the Straw Hats, for their part, had never been real criminals. Rather, they'd been freedom fighters and defenders of the downtrodden, just like the Revolutionary Army, that in the end had made coup d'état, turning the world into slightly better place. The Straw Hats had always opposed injustice and never fought for their own gain. Luffy had set out to sea to have an adventure and find friends, and they had just gathered around him and taken his ideals for their own. Luffy was devoid of hatred, although he had no mercy for the wrongdoers and offered them his iron fist. Surprisingly, it sometimes helped to shake some long forgotten remainder of morality out of them.

As a pirate, Law had never been as pure, but he'd taken care that at least his crew hadn't dirtied their hands. Just like the Straw Hats, the Heart Pirates hadn't been formed in order to ravage and loot; technically, their actions had had a noble purpose, although Law didn't want to absolve himself of his past... Either way, there were probably more such 'pirates' out there, who didn't harm anyone, and in that case they should be relieved from the name of the criminals, reserved for those who really wronged others.

"I think it's all to same to Straw Hat," he decided after a moment. "He always had his own view on that matter... he wished to become the Pirate King because it sounded _good_, and he never wondered about what the Pirate King does, in the first place. Now he has his palace and his queen, and he sometimes even puts his crown on, but that's all. It would never occur to him he should _rule_ over people... he would rather consider it a total hassle."

"Then, what's he actually doing?" Sengoku asked, pouring himself tea from the thermos and opening yet another bag of snacks. "According to Garp, he keeps roaming the seas, is it true? Hey, this fazifa is quite good, you should try, too. A bit too sweet, but it goes nicely with the tea. Then, what about Straw Hat?"

Law shrugged, automatically taking a brown ball from the offered packet. "He really can't stay home for a longer while... but he tries to show himself there from time to time, at least," he informed, remembering his meeting with Luffy in October. He knew that the former Fleet General avoided the Pirate King out of personal reasons... although the latter probably had long since forgotten about their clash in Marineford fifteen years ago. "He even started to bring his kids along on his adventures. I think it's that kind of guy who finds it very easy to be happy with his life."

Sengoku observed him closely for a longer while. "And you?" he finally asked.

Law shrugged again, biting through the chocolate bonbon. It was sweet indeed, but edible thanks to its somewhat bitter and slightly sour filling. "I'm content with my life. In this matter, nothing has happened since the previous time you asked year ago," he replied pointedly. "I too had my dream fulfilled, you know that."

Sengoku slowly nodded and looked at the building of the hospital, its facade almost gleaming in the afternoon sun. "It never ceases to amaze me that you made it happen. Ah, no... It's not that I doubted you," he corrected. "When you first told me about it, I knew right away you were the man capable of seeing it through. As someone who'd defeated Doflamingo, whom even the Navy had never managed to catch... It was easy to believe you could do anything you planned."

"It's not I who defeated Doflamingo," Law corrected automatically.

Sengoku waved his hand. "Stop to belittle yourself. I'm well aware you spent over a decade making and executing the plan aiming at beating him. I'm not mistaken when I think it was you who decided to include Straw Hat in that plan, am I? Even if it was him who dealt the final blow, he wouldn't have achieved that without your preparation and help, that's obvious. By the way, Doflamingo still stays at the sixth level of Impel Down, filling his time with complaints and visions, if you wish to know."

"I don't," Law replied immediately. He had no interest in what his hated enemy did, as long as he was confined in the Underwater Prison, without any chance to return onto the surface. "I hope they keep an eye on him," he added reluctantly.

"Don't worry. Hannyabal has no intention of repeating his predecessor's blunder," Sengoku added in a reassuring voice. "The prison's security is even tighter than before, both in equipment and procedures. And Hannyabal himself... Well, he doesn't have enough imagination to feel distressed by Doflamingo's talk. Behind the bars, even the Celestial Dragon loses his meaning, as does his threats, pleads and offers. Hannybal wouldn't gain anything if he cooperated."

Law nodded; the warden of Impel Down, along with the Seastone, could surely keep the former captain of the Donquixote Family in check. He clenched his teeth; even after all those years... even after executing an elaborate revenge, he couldn't think of the man without fierce hatred. He didn't believe he might stop feeling that way as long as that monster still lived. He grabbed the bottle with the liquor and poured it to two glasses.

"Do you regret letting him live?" Sengoku asked in a lower voice, as is he was reading his thought, and took one glass.

Law shook his head; he didn't know the answer. On the one hand, he still considered it to be unfair that Doflamingo lived while Cora-san was dead, but on the other hand... Luffy was the victor of that fight on Dressrosa, and it was him to decide about the fate of the defeated. In times like this, Law kept telling himself that being confined in the Underwater Prison was far worse than death. Of course, since it was Doflamingo in question, one could never be certain that the business was over... but if push came to shove, Law counted on Luffy to put the man behind the bars again, and with his happy assist.

"In any case," his guest's calm voice reached him, "I'm glad this hospital exists. Back then, thirteen years ago... There were still few things to be happy about. The world, despite having been freed, was in chaos. New order was only being formed, old was being forcibly replaced with new... Many groups wished to secure their deals, and the remnants of the Four Emperors still tried to govern these seas... Even though people wanted to believe things would be better, uncertainty was palpable and frightening. It's not easy to let go of the familiar reality, even if you have something better in a prospect. Man just doesn't like any changes," Sengoku said thoughtful. "And then you opened this hospital, where even a terminally ill person could be cured if only they managed to reach here. You announced you would heal anyone coming here. It was like a hope manifest and made an extremely big impression... did a great deal of good in that time of confusion."

"I assure you, Sengoku-san, it wasn't my intention," Law muttered.

The old admiral shook his head. "Let me praise you, naughty boy!" he said reproachfully. "The truth is you are doing something very good for the world, whether you like it or not. Why do you try so hard to deny it? Being a good guy isn't 'cool', now?" he asked pointedly.

"Sengoku-san, I've never tried to be cool," Law replied with a frown, putting the glass to his lips.

"Yeah, sure... It just came out," his guest said with irony he rarely showed.

Then, however, his gaze turned serious, and Sengoku stared at him in silence for a longer while. Law was drinking his brandy - it warmed his body pleasantly in this cold November afternoon - but that penetrating gaze the old admiral was giving him, eating the crackers at the same time, wouldn't let him relax.

"You're somewhat gloomy today," Sengoku spoke finally. "I mean... more than usually," he added with a bitter frankness. Then he fell silent again, obviously wondering about his next words, before he asked, "Has anything happened...?" cautiously, as if aware that his conversational partner didn't like such questions.

Law said nothing, staring at the reddish liquor in his glass. Dusk was falling, a bit faster it should have, because the day had become clouded in the last moment. The grey layer had covered the sky, obscuring the last sunlight, that normally would have been seen. The gulls were crying over the shore, but it was Sengoku's question still ringing in Law's ears.

"Nothing happened," he finally answered and then, despite himself, added, "Nothing ever happens here. There's no room for surprises in my life," although he didn't know himself whether he was complaining or provoking reality.

"Wait a moment..." Sengoku raised his hand. "I need to think what you mean when speaking like that."

Law curved his lips. "Sengoku-san, don't bother with it..."

The old admiral gave him a sharp look from behind his glasses. "Since I've already troubled myself with coming to this end of the world to see you, I'd rather understand what we are talking about," he decided. "I can tell something's bothering you, but you just won't tell me anything, and I have to get it out of you... But I believe everything is all right in the work...?"

"Of course it is," Law replied at once and only then understood he'd been tricked. He pressed his lips in a thin line.

"Then, if nothing new happened," the voice of his guest was firm, "you fret over something older."

Law glanced at him askance. "Sengkoku-san, please, don't psychoanalyse me," he said reluctantly.

"I don't even know such a word, so spare me that medical language, would you," Sengoku replied, then drank some brandy and mused again. He wasn't, however, taking his eyes off Law, which Law found quite disturbing. "Can it be that you're still tormenting yourself with what I hoped I'd knocked out of your head long ago? You can't feel any ridiculous remorse again...? And imagine some stupid things about yourself?" Law lowered his head. "Drat, I was right... The more I praise you here, the more you belittle yourself."

"Sengoku-san, I just..." How should he put it? "I'm not as good person you consider me to be," he muttered.

"Well, it seems to me that _you_ don't consider yourself as a good person _at all_," the old admiral replied. "Which, to tell the truth, I can't comprehend. You know how people call you? Miracle-medic, Surgeon of Life, Medicine God... Should I continue?"

Law felt even more uncomfortable. "The fact I'm a doctor and cure people doesn't automatically make me anyone better," he said; that was what he thought. "I know many doctors who are villains... or just wretches. I've met quite a lot of them in my life."

"But you're not a wretch," Sengoku pointed out. "If you had been one, you wouldn't have opened this hospital... you wouldn't have opened its doors to every person in need of the Ope Ope no Mi. If you had been a wretch, you would've been healing only those rich ones who would pay a fortune for your services. By now, you would have been undoubtedly the richest and the most influential man in the world."

"It's not that, Sengoku-san..."

"Then what?"

Law kept silent. What should he say? How should he explain what he felt? And why did he felt urge to explain it, in the first place, instead of saying outright he didn't want to talk about it? Maybe because Sengoku-san thought too much of him. Maybe because he respected the old admiral too much and didn't want him to have delusions. Maybe because...

"You just want to be hated, right?" Sengoku guessed. "You just want that _I_ hate you, don't you? Because you've never forgiven yourself and need to legitimate the contempt you hold yourself in...?"

Law was staring into his own glass, the remainder of brandy glistening at the bottom. What the old admiral was saying... it sounded familiar, it sounded right. And yet, for some reason, it didn't make him feel better.

"You're a naughty boy," Sengoku muttered. "I told you once you shouldn't use me as a mean to deepen your feeling of guilt. And that I didn't plan to hate you. Well, nothing has changed about it," he emphasised and then sighed. "I don't know what to do with you. First Rosinante, now you... What have I done to be punished with such two oddballs...?"

Law's head snapped up. "Don't compare us...!" he called. "Cora-san was... someone great, someone extraordinary... He was strong and determined, and never yielded to the fate. He kept moving ahead, without caring about his own good... he shaped reality with his bare hands if it didn't suit him...!" He closed his eyes. "And you put his name together with mine, as if... as if..." He pressed his lips together. Even if he was saying his mind, he sounded like a fool... although it didn't matter in the slightest. "Don't compare us... I can never be the man he was," he whispered.

"Rosinante was a naughty boy," Sengoku repeated in a calm and firm voice. "He was kind and polite, but once he got something into his head, I couldn't persuade him otherwise... just like you."

Law covered his eyes with one hand, putting his elbow on a table. He didn't want to listen to that, for it was all wrong... but something made him stay here, even if he were to hear the worst - or maybe the best? - things about himself. It didn't even occur to him to get up and leave now... It would be a terrible way of parting with Sengoku-san, who had always, despite everything, showed him kindness. Law realised that Donquixote Rosinante's foster father was the only person whose kindness he could accept... even if it made him the most wretched man in the world. Maybe he was a masochist, indeed...

Sengoku sighed, and then the glass clattered when he poured brandy again. "See what you've done..." he muttered with displeasure. "Not only have you erected him a monument, but you've also put him on the pedestal. As for the monument, the whole humanity benefits from it, so let it stay... but the pedestal you've created only in your mind should be shattered... and the sooner the better." He sighed again and when he continued, it sounded as if he was speaking to a little kid. "Rosinante didn't want to be your idol, right? He wanted to be your friend... your partner on the way you were following. He supported you, not looked at your efforts from the distance. I suppose he never thought of you as someone who should come up to him... Knowing him, he rather admired and respected you. He had low self-esteem... just like you."

The silence fell again; Law could hear the cries of the gulls and beating of his own heart. He tried to recall the face and the gaze of the man who had sacrificed everything to save him... but he could remember only his smile. He felt a familiar pang in his heart upon remembering he'd once had been truly happy, just for a moment. No, Cora-san never put himself on the pedestal. What he'd done, resulted from his very core, not any need to be respected or admired... But it didn't change a thing.

"What you just said..." Sengoku's voice broke in his thoughts. "Doesn't it apply to you as well? Strong, determined... Defeating fate, producing good without caring about your own benefit... Extraordinary. Hmmm... Sounds like you," he decided.

"I'm not like Cora-san," Law choked, keeping his eyelids together. Why wouldn't Sengoku-san understand this...? And why wouldn't he end this farce, why was he allowing such childish behaviour on Law's part, instead of losing his patience and ordering him to get hold of himself, like befitted a nearly forty-year-old guy...?

"Of course you aren't," Sengoku said. "He was he, you are you. This is how it should be. But it doesn't mean either of you is better or worse... or that I can't be proud of both of you. It pains me when you keep denying yourself credit and sink into self-accusations, Law, while you're every inch as good man as Rosinante... and as much important. At least to me," he declared.

Law raised his head and stared at the old admiral, frowning. In the dusk, covering everything in grey and killing any movement, he could barely see his face, but he focused to catch every detail he still could. "Sengoku-san, what-" he started and stopped, having no idea what he wanted to say.

His guest, however, didn't seem to have such dilemmas. "What?" he asked, surprised. "You thought I would move my old bones and struggle to the end of the world year by year to reminisce about Rosinante? I can't do a thing for him, let him rest in peace. I accepted that long ago. If I wanted to talk about him, I'd call you," he said, bringing the glass to his lips.

Law was sitting without a move and silent, trying to understand the words that he'd never expected to hear... that he wasn't sure he'd actually heard, regardless of his extraordinary hearing. He was staring at the old man as if he were seeing him the first time in his life, and his mind was running around in circles, trying to reach some logical conclusions and failing miserably. He grabbed the glass and took a sip, never letting eyes off his guest. His heart was racing in his chest, as if it was about to jump out... but there was no despair in it, only some incredible... hope...?

The lights flashed around them when the caretaker turned on the outside lighting. Law started, seeing the white flakes swirling in the air. Snow was falling down from the skies, softly covering the ground with the while shroud. He shut his eyelids together and pressed one hand to his face. He bit his lips. The shiver ran through his body again... along with the hysterical thought that cursed snow marked the most crucial moments of his life.

A warm hand touched his own. "It's all right," Sengoku said in a calm voice.

Law nodded, still not moving from his spot. He tried to regain control, which took him a longer while. Finally, he opened his eyes to look at the man before him.

"You're both naughty boys," Sengoku repeated, taking his hand. "But I wouldn't trade you for anyone else."

Law took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "Sengoku-san, I don't deserve-" He paused, seeing the retired admiral shrug and grab another bag of crackers.

_Don't find excuses for someone's love,_ he remembered the words he'd heard thirteen years ago. And although he still found it hard to understand... he knew he should have long ago stopped being amazed there were people in the world who could love Trafalgar Law.

"Do what you want with it," Sengoku said between one biscuit and another, perfectly unfazed. Then, however, he gave him a close look and shook his head, although there was no displeasure to his next words, quite the contrary, "I must say that you both are very dumb."

Law felt his lips stretch in an involuntary smile... and this time he didn't deny it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

After Sengoku-san's visit, Law's mood turned better. Of course, he wouldn't have been himself if the talk with Rosinante's father hadn't provoked a new cascade of remorse along with the impression he didn't deserve any warmer feelings. And yet... he felt somehow comforted. He couldn't but wonder at the fact that over the years Sengoku-san had become so fond, so strongly attached to him. The very thought bewildered him... and brought a foolish smile onto his face. On the other hand, he was mad at himself that he hadn't noticed it at all. He'd been so focused on his own situation that he hadn't even considered - he might have unconsciously sensed it, at the very most - that Sengoku-san might have visited him for something else than just reminiscing about Rosinante. The old admiral had had to almost say aloud that he cared about _him_ so that Law's eyes opened.

He didn't deserve it. He was an egoistic git who could only hurt people around him... and yet Sengoku-san was able to see something else in him, something that he couldn't see himself. Law knew well that there was no use in arguing with somebody's love; one could only humbly accept it. It was a phenomenon he couldn't comprehend and logically explain, no matter how much he tried. He still couldn't find any reason why Sengoku-san might love him - the man who had brought death to his son - but he thought he probably would never find them. What amazed him the most was the fact there were people capable of such strong feelings out there; for him, it was something unattainable. Even if he was certain that it was love that he'd felt to Corazon, it still seemed laughable and insignificant when compared to that hurricane he'd been given. With some part of his mind, he knew it was pointless to compare the feelings, but he couldn't help it.

Now he could see clearly that his own attachment to Sengoku-san had long since exceeded the bounds of respect and gratitude for the man who had brought up Rosinante, Law's benefactor. He'd always been able to open to the old admiral, and could accept his concern without any protest, which wouldn't happen with anyone else. Moreover, Sengoku-san was someone whose approval Law unconsciously yearned and whose opinion he appreciated. Maybe he really needed such an authority figure, someone older and wiser, someone akin to a father, after he'd lost his own father too soon, and Cora-san had become one only for a short while. Sengoku-san not only had provided him with it, but also had grown attached to him like his own son, even though it had taken Law many years to understand it. Well, they used to say that better later than never, he decided now ironically... and with warm sensation in his chest.

They parted in good mood, promising to meet again the next year. Nothing really changed in their relation. Even if they'd grown closer, the time that either of them wished to play a family had been long since past them. Frankly speaking, Law had suggested the old admiral to move to Raftel, but Sengoku-san didn't feel like abandoning his house and his island, at least not yet. It was, in fact, all right, for Law feared he wouldn't be able to please Sengoku-san in case the latter wished for a more intense relation. His life was filled with work, and he didn't plan to change it; then, if they both were glad with the state of affairs, then Law wouldn't wish any more. He didn't need Sengoku-san to be near; what mattered to him was to know that someone, halfway around the world, cared and thought warmly about him.

It hadn't solved his all problems, but at least for a short while it made his life a bit better. So, if November had been the month he'd spent in foul mood and generally wished to forget altogether, then December started in much better spirit and almost optimistically. To know he was being loved could miraculously heal wounds. He preferred not to think that sooner or later it wouldn't be enough and all nightmares would return to his life, for they were intertwined with his very psyche. He wasn't deluded; he knew that Sengoku-san had managed to drive them away only for a moment, and that they kept lurking just over the border of light and shadow, now invisible, but still real.

Now, however, his good mood was a fact. He had more energy, talked more and was more cheerful. He treated others with composure and didn't feel disconcerted by what they said. His relation with Bepo returned to normal as well; he could accept that the mink, whom he considered as his best friend, could care about him, just like he'd done always. Actually, Bepo clearly strived to avoid any comments to Law's lifestyle, and he rarely blurted something that proved he still didn't approve his workaholism, but, to be frank, Law would worry if Bepo stopped to comment on it altogether.

His good mood didn't escape Clione's attention, either, and the psychiatrist used to cast him questioning looks whenever they met in the corridor. On Law's next psychiatric day, Clione tried to continue their previous conversation during their dinner, but Law answered that everything was fine and there was no need to talk about those old matters, which he considered to be true. The psychiatrist settled for that, and they spent time discussing more general topics.

December continued pleasantly amongst the familiar routine and without greater deviations. There were no disturbing events in the vicinity, no disasters. The weather was passable; snow would occasionally fall, but never stayed for longer. The patients kept arriving on due dates - no-one came too late - to be then discharged healthy. The hospital expansion project gathered pace, and the initial sketches of the new wing were made. Another reporter from the global newspaper appeared in the clinic to request an 'exclusive interview' with the director, but he wasn't granted even the most ordinary one; it had been Law's policy from the very start to refer the journalists either to his deputy or the press secretary of the hospital, and he was generally forgiven. It wasn't about his personal reluctance; he really didn't have time to speak to the media.

The medical cases were diverse. For the most part he dealt with all too familiar neoplasms, but there were also two genetic disorders he hadn't seen before. Through Kaya, he ordered the paediatric residents to make the case reports from both and send to the medical journals. Himself, he didn't write any papers - there was no point, since his treatment methods could be repeated only by the next doctor with the Ope Ope no Mi - but he encouraged and even demanded that other doctors analysed every medical case in the Corazon Memorial Hospital. After all, the best clinic in the world didn't use solely the Ope Ope no Mi, but also conventional medicine, often in innovative way. It was extremely important to devise such treatment methods that any 'ordinary' doctor could use; it was possible only through careful observation and mental work. The hospital on Raftel wasn't only the last resort for the terminally ill; the work done here benefitted the whole medical world.

In general, Law had no reason to complain. With every passing day, he made sure that he finally had regained his psychical balance after a few difficult weeks. Of course, such state made him feel that something would happen soon, and he usually was right. It was nearly mid-December when he once again learned that even the greatest doctor in the world shouldn't blindly believe in his own infallibility, not that there was any danger he would do so, at least not anytime soon.

One morning, during breakfast, Bepo inquired, "Do you remember that boy I asked you to examine some two months ago?"

Law frowned, straining his memory. "That one with a mother?"

"If we're speaking about the same boy with a mother, then probably yes," Bepo replied pointedly and then muttered, "I can't figure your train of thought. If it weren't you, I'd think that lady caught your eye."

"Don't be stupid," Law said impolitely. "Then? What about him? He couldn't possibly be here again...?!"

Bepo nodded. "He is, and with a fracture again," he confirmed. "This time of a forearm, both bones were smashed to smithereens. I admitted him yesterday and almost cried when looking at the X-Ray. He says he tripped on a kerb. A kerb!"

Law had involuntarily clenched his teeth and only now relaxed the muscles. He hated such situations. They happened rarely, but they always filled him with guilt. "Bepo, I swear to you I didn't find anything upon examination," he stressed. "His bones were perfectly normal, no pathology in the tissue. No neurological disorders. A healthy kid."

"Come on, it's not like I'm blaming you," Bepo replied. "I checked the genetic test you'd ordered then: full norm. I've no idea what's wrong with him. Now I start to suspect that someone keeps harming him, myself. It's not normal that a healthy kid breaks his bones after tripping over a kerb."

Law nodded silently, drinking his coffee. He recalled the talk with the boy... and his mother; for some reason, they came as a set in his mind, and he could do nothing about it. Now he remembered how they'd looked and that there'd been no air of deceit around them, even if, before meeting with them, he'd considered that the boy's mother would be the cause of his recurrent hospitalisations.

"But you saw him yourself," he muttered. "Nothing in his behaviour indicated that he'd been subjected to violence. I talked to him, and I'm sure he doesn't hide anything."

"Maybe he... doesn't remember?" Bepo suggested.

"He doesn't remember someone is beating him?"

"You know it sometimes happens... People block traumatic events, forget them altogether."

Law said nothing. He knew such incidents really occurred... but he found it difficult to believe it was such a case. He sighed. Apparently, he preferred to trust his judgement. He was suspicious by nature, so digging for hidden layers came naturally to him. At one time, it was only his paranoia he could count on; he'd come as far as a pirate because he'd always been prepared for any eventuality... On the other hand, when working with patients, he had to rely on their words, for it was _their_ illness he cured, and thus being overly suspicious wasn't advisable. Thanks to this, he'd managed to temper that habit in his daily life.

Still, he shouldn't exclude any possibility... especially not because of his pride. The good of the patient was always the key priority. Even if it seemed to him the boy didn't hide anything, he wasn't a specialist in the matter of human mind; fortunately, he had some on his disposal.

"Let someone from Seven talk to him," he ordered. "If it's really some kind of amnesia, then they are the only ones to have any chance to find it."

"Okay. But you have to drop by him anyway. This time he won't do without the Ope Ope no Mi," Bepo informed. "I told you, it's a terrible fracture... two or three centimetres of bone were smashed. Even the surgeons wouldn't be able to do anything. If he'd been an adult, they would've put an implant, but the kid is still growing."

Law nodded. "I'll see him. I'm going to the paediatrics anyway," he promised, then finished his coffee and got up. "See you."

On his way to the ward, the thought he'd overlooked something when examining the boy last time, wouldn't leave him. It could be so, even if the possibility was microscopic... It had happened before that some patients would come to the hospital again, but Law had been able to find the disease only during the second time. He wasn't happy about it... but of the two, he'd rather blame himself than his Devil Fruit. The option that the Ope Ope no Mi wasn't perfect, filled him with such terror that he immediately forbade himself from considering it. He hoped the day he stopped trusting the Ope Ope no Mi would never come.

Since the fractures, comparing to other conditions, didn't require much time, he went to the boy right away. When he closed the door behind him, the patient's mother stirred on her bed. Law activated the Ope Ope no Mi and put her in a deeper sleep before she waked up. Then, he anesthetised the sleeping boy and got to work. The fracture was nasty indeed; the tiny fragments of the two bones were stuck in the surrounding soft tissues, and all area was inflamed. Law removed all pieces and stimulated the osteoblasts to produce new bone tissue - just like Bepo had said, over two centimetres needed to be filled - which he then supplied with nerves and blood vessels. It took him just one moment.

Before leaving, he scanned the boy's organism with his Devil Fruit, only to find no pathology that might explain his recurrent fractures, just like two months earlier. As a doctor, he hoped the psychiatrists would find something that might indicate foul play, although he jibbed at it as a human being. He really didn't like the idea he had misses - or would miss - some medical condition in his patients. Until now, he'd been certain the Ope Ope no Mi had made him a perfect doctor and every ill person could trust him fully. What would happen if he learned that the reality wasn't so bright? Trafalgar Law would lose his footing, to say nothing of the crowd of his patients or patients-to-be.

Yet, it was too early to make such assumptions. He still should believe that the Ope Ope no Mi wouldn't let him down. When he stopped by the bed of his next patient - an infant with a heart defect - he no longer thought of that problem, only focused fully on his work. Even if the unpleasant impression would return to him between the patients, he every time managed to push it away from his mind.

Until noon, he performed all six surgeries he'd had in his schedule. He could be pleased with himself, especially after the last operation on the nearly thirty-year-old man with a degenerative brain disease. The man was really lucky to have been referred to the hospital on Raftel; if he hadn't, according to Law's diagnosis, he would have died within six months. At first, he'd been treated as a psychiatric patient because his apparent and reported symptoms had been insomnia, anxiety, depression and suicidal thoughts, followed by concentration and memory problems. He'd been referred to the psychiatric hospital, but his condition would only deteriorate, despite medication: he'd started to hallucinate, and his level of arousal had alternated between agitation and stupor. The subtle neurological symptoms - speech impairment, tremor and hypersensitivity to external stimuli - had been considered to result from the psychiatric condition. It hadn't occurred to anyone to send him for a head scan or, at least, do an EEG.

The history would have ended tragically if not for the parents of the young man, who had visited him in the hospital and had been terrified by his state. At that point, the patient could no longer move, not even speak. Against the doctor's advise, the parents had transferred their son to another hospital where he'd been immediately diagnosed with encephalopathy of unknown origin and urgently forwarded to Raftel. When Law had scanned him with the Ope Ope no Mi, he'd found the cerebral atrophy in every lobe, which explained the psychiatric symptoms. He'd also discovered numerous deposits in his nervous system; examination had told him that they were formed by the pathologically built and acting proteins. He'd found them in other tissues as well. He'd never seen anything like that before, but thanks to his Devil Fruit he'd known it was that protein that had caused the disease.

Treatment was difficult because it didn't take only to remove the pathological deposits and regenerate the brain tissue, almost completely in this case. Law also had had to modify that pathological protein and remove the mutation responsible for its occurrence from the genetic code. It was a time-consuming operation, and thus he'd divided it in three parts and scheduled for three consecutive days, and knowing that additional procedures might be necessary, too. However, he was certain everything would be all right, for today, before the third and presumably last stage of treatment, he found the patient conscious and in contact, although completely confused and disoriented, and with severe memory disorder. Well, it didn't come as a surprise in the case of the man who'd required to have most of his cerebral cortex built anew... It would be good if he remembered who he was, to begin with, although the personality change was pretty likely. Law never guaranteed his patients and their families that after his treatment they would be just like they had been before coming here; he only guaranteed that they would be healthy.

Then, he had a reason to be satisfied... but he didn't manage to enjoy it any longer. This day would pass into history as a very unfortunate for him. When Shachi moved the patient out of the operating theatre, and Penguin started to fill the medical record, the room suddenly went black, and it was the last thing Law remembered.

* * *

He waked up on the hard examination bed, which made him guess he was in some doctor's office. The dim light was filling the room, but then it became brighter.

"How do you feel?" asked the voice belonging to the hospital's only reindeer-doctor.

Law looked to the side to see the head of the internal department sitting on the stool. Bepo was standing in the door, and it was him who had turned the lighting on. Law swore inwardly, sensing the storm. Maybe he should _forbid_ people to call Bepo in such situations... not that he planned them.

He focused on present. "Normal," he answered Chopper's question, then activated the Ope Ope no Mi to make sure he was fine, indeed. "Everything is fine with me," he informed, sitting up.

The reindeer nodded. "I didn't find anything, either, at least not in general examination. But I heard from Bepo it was the second time you fainted within a short period of time...?"

"At least, I was called two times," Bepo slipped in an emotionless voice. "It may be that-"

"Two times, Bepo, no more," Law interrupted him and looked at Chopper again. "The previous one was after I'd been using the Ope Ope no Mi for almost twenty-four hours straight," he explained. "After that catastrophe on Segvel. I hardly ever slept then, so no wonder I passed out."

Chopped nodded again. "And now?" he asked in a serious voice.

Law said nothing. He had no idea why he'd lost consciousness again. He didn't have rapid pressure drops, and he cared about keeping the proper glucose level in his blood. He had no head problems, so it couldn't be the neurological problem, either.

"Overworking," Bepo said from his spot by the door. "Your organism can no longer handle such an extensive using of the Ope Ope no Mi."

"Rubbish," Law replied at once. "My organism is in perfect condition."

"Then, your psyche is protesting," the mink decided.

At that, Law only snorted.

"Is it true?" Chopper asked with a polite curiosity. "You're overworking yourself?"

The silence fell. Law hoped Bepo wouldn't tell the internist about his lifestyle... and then he asked himself why he should fear that. He wasn't doing anything wrong...? Apparently, the criticism he'd experienced this autumn had stayed in his head and made him assume that everyone would only blame him... especially his colleagues.

Bepo, however, kept silent, even though Chopper's question was still in the air and gave him the great occasion to get yet another affirmation that Law should care about himself better. Law had no doubt that the chief of the internal medicine would support the mink in his opinion... Yet, he understood that Bepo didn't want to be disloyal to him... or didn't want to risk his bad mood, especially after what had happened the last time they'd talked about it.

He looked at the internist, who was still awaiting his answer. "No," he said. "I'm not overworking myself. My organism is modified. I can work much longer than normal person. I have enhanced physical and physiological endurance."

Chopper nodded slowly. "And you probably... constantly make better and better use of your Devil Fruit, and operate more than before...?" he guessed.

"That's true," Law affirmed. "I can use the Ope Ope no Mi more efficiently. Over the years, my surgeries have become shorter, so nowadays I can treat more patients in the same period of time."

"Only, you're not getting any younger," the internist pointed out, "quite the contrary."

"My age doesn't matter here," Law muttered. "What matters is how I function."

"Speaking of which," Bepo said, and Law hunched inside at his voice. "Today you collapsed right after the treatment... I wonder if the third time wouldn't occur _during_ it. You know what will happen then?"

"There's no point talking what ifs," Law responded edgily, not really looking at him. "It's not going to happen."

"If you collapse when treating, say, a surgical patient," Bepo continued, ignoring his remark, "and the Ope Ope no Mi is deactivated, there's a substantial risk that patient will die on your operating table, Trafalgar Law," he said solemnly. "You're a doctor. When performing a surgery, you hold human life in your hands. How can you be so carefree? It's very unlike you."

Law stared at him in silence. If it were anyone else speaking, he would've undoubtedly heard impatient reluctance or open disappointment in their voice, yet Bepo talked calmly, without emotions, but stressing every word, as if he wanted to convince him, show him a lucid solution. Law could barely comprehend it; it was he whom people always considered a common sense incarnated... Still, he mused over what the mink had said, for even if he trusted his own opinion, he didn't use to automatically disregard everyone else's... and it wasn't like Bepo spoke on a whim.

That was true: if he collapsed during the operation, it would endanger the patient's life. He wasn't going to deny it, only... He'd never fainted when _using_ the Ope Ope no Mi, only after. He'd never - never! - lost consciousness when operating, and he'd rather believe that in normal circumstances the Ope Ope no Mi _protected_ him from any harm. They weren't speaking of the situations when he used his Devil Fruit for over twenty hours straight; in that case it would be logical if he exhausted his all energy. But he was perfectly certain that there was no risk in the normal daily work mode.

As for his syncope... Well, for some reason they happened, and ignoring them wouldn't let him find out why. But he knew that his health was perfect, so he couldn't imagine working less, and it was what it was all about. For his part, he'd rather work even more than now.

"Can you guarantee me that if I work less, such a situation will never happen again?" he asked. "No. But I know _what_ can be guaranteed: that more people will die, waiting for my treatment," he pointed out, trying to speak in a calm manner.

"So you'd rather take a risk?" Bepo asked. "Risk a patient's life... or that incredible cure statistic of this hospital?"

Law shook his head. "It won't happen," he said. "I'm all right," he repeated.

"What if the Ope Ope no Mi is wrong?" Bepo asked.

Law looked up at him. The mink's words, though he would've considered them a blasphemy any other time, reminded him his earlier concern and confused him for a moment. He quickly got over it. He didn't plan to return to what had been gnawing at him the whole morning.

"Ope Ope no Mi is _never_ wrong," he declared. It sounded too overbearing, which he immediately realised. "Look, I know you're worried," he said in a softer voice. "But tell me: how many patients has the Ope Ope no Mi cured until now?" Bepo shook his head. "I've no idea, either. Buy I know I can cure many many more. It's the only thing that matters."

He really didn't want this conversation turn into the same terrible fight they'd had back in October. He'd promised himself he would never let it happen again. Only, Bepo was so stubborn... What should he say? What arguments use in order to convince him? Judging from his expression, the mink seemed completely unconvinced... and inconvincible.

"I also think that slowing your pace of work is a good idea," Chopper spoke; in the meantime, Law had managed to forget him. "You should take a long weekend from time to time."

Those words almost made Law moan, and even Bepo seemed as if he'd just suppressed a cry. A long weekend? For Trafalgar Law, who never took a _single_ day off in the whole year? Bepo must have had the same thought: they mustn't make the head of the internal medicine department aware of the hospital director's lifestyle; he would be much happier, staying in his delusions.

"Um, a free day every now and then would be good," Bepo muttered, scratching his neck and looking everywhere else but the doctor-reindeer.

"Dr Chopper, thank you," Law said. "Sorry for the trouble. I won't keep you."

The internist beamed and jumped down from the stool in a very energetic way. "Asshole! Don't think I'm happy when you call me a doctor!" he declared with a clear joy, walking to the door.

"What else should I call you?" Law asked, rolling his eyes. "We're all doctors here..."

"Jerk!" the reindeer said and left, and Law thought he could always count on the lack of the proprieties with him, and found it refreshing.

Now that they were alone, Bepo stared at him in a serious manner again, and Law prepared for the worst... for the fight.

"We can't leave things like that," the head of the emergency unit decided.

Law frowned. "What...? You're going to nag me about it every time we meet?" he suggested.

Bepo shook his head. "Even if you're a superhuman... I know how you'll be feeling in the situation that the first patient _dies_ in your hands," he said in a lower voice. "And I know I don't want to see it. If you're not going to do anything about it, then I must."

Law realised he couldn't be mad with Bepo even if he wanted to. He felt like tousling his hair in frustration. Yes, Bepo, of all people, certainly _knew_. He believed they were the best friends... so it was obvious he didn't want to allow the situation that Law suffered. No matter how much it deviated from Law's personal opinion, he couldn't remain indifferent. Apparently, he _had_ to make some concession, even if he really didn't want to; otherwise, Bepo wouldn't leave him be, and he seemed determined enough to do something that would turn Law's life upside down... although Law had no idea what it might be. Anyway, he had to prevent it at all cost.

He gave the mink a solemn look. "I promise that, if I faint once more during work, then... I'll consider your proposal," he muttered with reluctance, but then he added with emphasis, "I _promise_ you that, Bepo."

Instead of being happy, however, the mink shook his head again, his eyes filling with sadness and... disappointment. He said no more, only took his leave. Law felt like running after him and asking what he planned to do... but then his anxiety receded, replaced by the calm realisation that there was nothing his friend could really do about it. Nothing.

* * *

Two days passed, and nothing happened... Bepo behaved like always, but Law couldn't forget what his friend had said during that conversation. Obviously, Bepo planned something, and no matter how Law tried to convince himself that no-one was able to influence his decision, he still couldn't shake the thought something might be happening behind his back, something concerning him, and he had no idea what. He knew, however, that asking about it was pointless... and, besides, he didn't feel like doing so. He'd already made a fool of himself in his friend's eyes, so he'd rather avoid any pathetic behaviour from now on.

What deepened his paranoia even more was the fact that, again, his more or less close colleagues began to make the comments about how he should take care of himself. And here he'd thought he'd got over with it... He started to suspect that the news about his collapse had _spread_ in the hospital, although he was sure that neither Bepo nor Chopper had told anyone. Still, he wasn't exactly in the position to _ask_ about it. 'Hey, Ikkaku... Have you heard that I fainted in the operating theatre the other day?' If they didn't know after all, he would blab it out himself, which would defeat the purpose... Well, there was nothing he could do about it, and worrying about it wouldn't do. Apparently, the rule 'Ignore it and it will go away?' was pretty sensible in this case, too. It could also be that the reason for the others' more open attitude towards him was that he'd been more cheerful recently; something like that encouraged contacts.

Nevertheless, even if he assumed that the hospital workers might know about his syncope, it would never cross his mind that the matter could have become larger that that. Later, he would come to the conclusion that this history should teach him to pay attention not only to medical affairs. On the third day, in the evening, when he was doing a paperwork and planning the next day surgeries, Sengoku-san called him. The old admiral was one of few people that had his personal number, that was the direct number to his office. He rarely called - mostly because of the time difference between Raftel and the region he lived in - and thus the very first emotion welling up in Law was anxiety.

"You're not asleep yet?" the former Fleet Admiral asked in a normal voice. "I know you go to bed late."

"Sengoku-san? Did anything happen? You hardly ever call..."

"Nothing happened _here_," Sengoku replied reprovingly and then showered him with questions, "What's with that fainting? Do you feel unwell? Are you ill?"

Law thought he'd heard wrong. How could Sengoku-san, halfway around the world, know about that? He couldn't possibly use telepathy...? "How... Where..." he uttered before he managed to gather his thought after the initial shock that had deprived him the ability of coherent speech. "What are you talking about, Sengoku-san?" he asked in a bit calmer tone.

"Ah, right, it's yesterday evening in your place, so you can't know... They write about it in today's paper. That Trafalgar Law, the greatest doctor in the world and the director of the Corazon Memorial Hospital et cetera et cetera, collapsed at work! They of course prophesy the worst... practically the apocalypse. I almost choked on my breakfast tea, seeing the headline: Is it the end of the Miracle-Doctor, question mark and two exclamation marks."

Law felt dizzy. He closed his eyes and hoped it was just a bad dream... even though he'd long since stopped seeing dreams. In the newspaper? In the global daily? It went beyond the limit of absurd.

"Law? Hey, Law? Are you there?" he heard the pressing voice in the receiver. "Say something 'cause I'm worried. I'd have ignored it altogether if they hadn't referred to your local press."

"I hear you, Sengoku-san..."

Law clenched his fists and then relaxed them. He took a deep breath and ordered himself to remain calm. And then did it once more. What had happened, had happened... and, in fact, nothing had happened at all. He'd survived much worse things, right? Something like this was but a trifle... And since Sengoku-san knew... since _everyone_ knew... there was no point hiding it. Now, this very moment, the most important was to allay the concerns. Sengoku-san had said straight he was worried...! After their recent talk, Law knew it was true... and he didn't want to worry him, especially without reason.

"I'm all right," he said in a composed voice. "I assure you, Sengoku-san. It's true I briefly fainted the other day, but I suspect it's just... overworking," he almost spat out the word that normally didn't register in his dictionary. "There's nothing wrong with me, I'm not ill... I'm fine. You believe me, don't you?" he asked somewhat anxiously.

"Why should I not believe you?" came the answer that filled him with warmth. "If you say so, then it must be so. I don't consider you to be someone who would lie... even though sometimes one can't avoid lying," Sengoku muttered absently, but then he added. "In any case, it's good to now you're fine. I knew that the press made a mountain out of a molehill... Like always. Only... Take good care of yourself, would you?"

Despite his frustration, Law felt like smiling. "Don't worry. Miracle-Doctor has no intention to stop curing people," he said. "The Ope Ope no Mi is alive and well."

"To hell with the Ope Ope no Mi... It's your health that matters, moron!" Sengoku scolded him. "Okay, I won't bother you any longer. It's almost midnight in your place, right? Goodnight! Don't overwork yourself!"

"Sengoku-san...!" Law called before the old admiral hung up. "Thanks... for calling," he said sincerely in a soft voice before putting down the receiver.

He rubbed his face with both hands and wondered what to do about it - and if anything. His eyes caught the pile of the newspapers on the very edge of his big desk. His secretary would bring him the local daily every morning, only to once per week take all of them away, unread. He browsed through today's issue of 'Raftel's Voice', then grabbed the yesterday's... Right on the front page it wrote: 'The dark side of the Corazon Memorial Hospital. Director Trafalgar Law seriously ill? Read more on pages 2-3. Only here!' The photograph of the hospital facade in the sunlight was somewhat at odds with the darkness in the headline, but it could be the intended effect, too.

The first thing that amazed Law was how they'd been able to make a two-page article out of a single syncope, but he probably underestimated the journalists. He began reading, trying to fish up the meaningful content between the substantial amount of exclamation and question marks. He quickly threw the paper aside with disgust. Just as he'd expected, the article consisted mostly of the author's various speculations and assumptions - 'Is it the end of the medical miracles?' and 'What would happen to the population of Raftel and the Four Islands?' he asked among other things - and the sole fair fragment was the information about Law's collapse itself, although it, too, was presented in the manner typical for the media, that was sensational and dramatising. The journalist cited a person, a former patient of the hospital, 'who wished to remain anonymous' and had seen how 'unconscious and pale as death Director Law' had been carried out of the operating theatre and had required the attention of 'many doctors'. It proved what he'd believed himself: that neither Bepo, nor Chopper, nor anyone from the personnel talked about his collapse. It was probably the only one positive thing in the whole affair... or, at least, the only thing that mattered to _him_.

He leaned back and stared at the ceiling, trying to take it all. The situation was so absurd that it didn't even anger him; rather, he felt like laughing it down. With a little good will, he could understand that the news about his possible illness might cause the reaction on a larger scale. It didn't surprise him, either, that the journalist considered it a scoop, especially that Law himself was absent on media. In a way, he was a famous man, and yet people knew hardly anything about him; it was obvious that any piece of information would cause excitation. As for that patient, who had witnessed his indisposition and had dared such indiscretion... Well, he or she must have succumbed to the temptation of gaining some fame - and maybe even some material gratification - which could be understood, too. Such was a human nature, and Law didn't feel like blaming anyone.

Well, even if he regularly gave the interviews, such news would cause a stir anyway, he concluded. So, there was no reason to give up on his policy of avoiding the journalist, that had been working great for the last decade and even longer. There were many causes for it, the most important of them being lack of time Law could spare on talking to the media. As for the rest... He wasn't a celebrity. His life was filled with work, and Trafalgar Law didn't exist outside of medicine. He didn't have so called private life; moreover, he didn't consider himself to be interesting enough as a person so that the stories should be made about him. He wanted to focus solely on treating patients and didn't see anything wrong about it.

Should he react to that article...? He quickly decided there was no point in doing so. He knew it was but a load of rubbish, aiming at causing a sensation. Patients and staff, and anyone visiting the Corazon Memorial Hospital could see with their own eyes that Director Law was fine and working like always, although the article didn't mention that. No, he shouldn't bother his head. He'd developed the immunity to the public opinion long ago, back in times when his wanted posters had circulated the world, with one of the highest bounty in the history, so he would cope with this kind of 'fame', too.

Then, however, he realised that the official statement _was_ needed. The information had got in the global newspaper, which meant that the hospital would be flooded with the calls asking for commentary, and maybe even the Ministry of Health would request an explanation... Law would have to ask his deputy and the press secretary to compose a formal letter to the authorities and the media, correcting the false information. Even if he considered it a bother, he couldn't ignore the concern and anxiety that article would arise in normal people, his potential patients. It wouldn't do if something shook their belief that there was a place they could seek help in need and be certain they would recover. For the public good, it was important that Trafalgar Law was at full strength, he decided.

The next moment, he winced and asked himself sarcastically since when he'd started to say his own name and 'the public good' in the same sentence. well, it was true that he _did_ some good for the world, he and the Ope Ope no Mi; he shouldn't deny it. That thought made him think of Sengoku-san, and now he really felt angry, mostly because the stupid journalists had made the old admiral anxious for no reason. On the other hand... Sengoku-san had called him, and that filled him with warmth. It'd been nice to hear his voice again... and be reminded of his concern and affection, even though those were the only positive aspects of that affair.

In the end, Law decided there was no need to think of it any longer, not now that he had work to do. With an ironic realisation that medicine was easier than any other area, he once again plunged into the clinical cases he would treat tomorrow.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The next day was just like the previous ones, only there was more suspicious or concerned looks that the patients and the workers cast him. Law remained calm and strived to act in his normal manner. Through his deputy and the heads of the departments, he informed the staff that there was no reason to be worried; there was nothing wrong with him, he could work normally, and they shouldn't attach any importance to what was published in the press. He wished that this announcement reached the patients as well.

He believed that affair wouldn't affect his work, but in the evening he learned that he'd been very naive. When the last admitted patient left his office, and Law dimmed the upper light and opened the window, ready for paperwork, a knocking on the door was to be heard. The next moment, Bepo slipped in the room, followed by Ikkaku and Clione. Law frowned at that unusual combination, but then he thought they probably wanted to consult with him some case... a patient that needed interdisciplinary treatment, although he found it difficult to imagine such a person.

"We have a real medical council here..." he muttered, switching his desk lamp off, then took off his glasses and leaned back. "How can I help you?"

Bepo stayed by the door, but the other two scattered over the room: Ikkaku walked up to the cabinet and leaned against it, while Clione sat down on the couch opposite her and crossed his legs. Law had each of them respectively at 3, 6, and 12 o'clock now, and felt almost cornered; at least there was the desk between him and them. He shifted his eyes between the three doctors and frowned, for it seemed they planned to stay here longer. Instead of saying something, however, they kept silent, which made him feel both anxious and irritated.

"Well?" he asked. "I don't have a whole day..."

"We want to talk with you about this situation," Ikkaku started, folding her arms and piercing him with the gaze of her brown eyes.

"You refer to that rubbish in the newspaper?" Law replied, looking at the pile at the edge of the desk. "There's no reason to attach any importance to it. You should know better-"

"You _must_ slow down, Law," Ikkaku said as if she hadn't heard him. "If a head doctor faints in the middle of the day in his hospital, and in full view of the patients, it's a serious matter. This has gone too far."

"We all know that the work means the world to you," Clione spoke, "and it gives you a lot, too, there's no doubt. But enjoying its benefits, you can't ignore the load it puts on you. If you don't tell yourself 'stop' now, it's going to be like a downward spiral. Even if your body can take it, your psyche starts to be tired."

"There's nothing wrong with my psyche," Law snapped, giving him an angry look. That was why he didn't like the psychiatrists: they could explain every disorder and every symptom by mental factors...

Clione didn't reply, except that his eyes said, 'Really?'

"Clione put it in pretty words, but the truth is you're a _workaholic_, and we're all well aware of it," Ikkaku continued. "We've been knowing you for over twenty years. You're always extremely ambitious in everything you do, and give it your all. The thing is, workaholism always has a sad end, both for the person in question and people close to him. Sooner or later one reaches that particular line, that after crossing it everything starts to collapse. You also have that line, and I'm afraid you've got pretty close to it. You're not a superhuman, Law, nor you're getting any younger," she said with emphasis. "You must finally understand you should start to _take care_ of yourself."

Law glared at her. It hadn't been even five minutes since they'd come here, and he was already terribly annoyed. "And you thought that if you gang together, I would certainly listen to you?" he asked with irony. "You're wasting your time. I don't-"

"Why are you so hell-bent on _not listening_ to us?" Bepo spoke from the door, for the first time; his voice was calm, cautious, emotionless. "Why do you stick to your way... even though you're hurting yourself or are on a right course to do so?"

Law clenched his fists and said nothing. He fixed his eyes on his desk and was frantically thinking how to wiggle out of this conversation. He was under the impression that in the last weeks he'd been hearing only about his work from others, and he was losing his patience. He'd kept reassuring or simply ignoring them, and they still wouldn't leave him be. But he'd be damned if he let them mess with his head, and yielded to their absurd demands...! There was no reason that he changed anything in his work, that was all!

"How many times should I say that I'm all right?" he called in exasperation. He would have never thought that such words could make him so frustrated, but they did, repeated over and over. "I am fine. _Fine_. Should I spell it? My only problem is that my employers have been persecuting me with their nonsense comments and absurd demands for months now. You know, when I opened this hospital, I was certain that, if anything, people would complain about _their_ amount of work, not _mine_. What you're doing is some farce. How many people will come here the next time? All staff will appear to try to convince me?" he asked.

"You know we don't say these things because we want to oppose you," Clione slipped gently. "Even though we 'ganged together', like you said, it's not about imposing our will on you."

"No?" asked Law sarcastically, looking at him. "Well, it sure seems to..."

"We're not your enemies," the psychiatrist calmly returned his gaze. "We've been on your side for over twenty years, just like Ikkaku said. That's why we're here today."

Law suppressed a sigh. He knew that well, knew that he shouldn't be mad at them... but it didn't change the fact their opinions and views were different. And when one couldn't persuade another into accepting their point of view, then even the most patient person would lose it sooner or later. Still, they had to find some kind of solution... a civilised one.

"It is obvious we can't reach a mutual understanding in this matter," he said, trying to remain calm. "No matter what you say, you're not going to convince me. I acknowledge your point of view, but I'm not going to adopt it. Can we still continue our cooperation despite this disaccord?"

Ikkaku shook her head, and Law felt angry again for dismissing his good will so outright.

"No, because we're too worried about you," she replied.

"You are unable to influence how I live my life...!" Law called in despair.

"That's why we want to _persuade_ you," Bepo said. "You're an obsessive workaholic. I don't know your reasons... But it would be good if you could look at it objectively and ask yourself if everything is the way it should be."

"There is no reason," Law replied, "except that I have the Ope Ope no Mi and can help people that no-one else can. It's always been like that and will always be."

Bepo nodded. "That's true, but don't forget there's more and more diseases we're able to cure _without_ the Ope Ope no Mi," he pointed out. "During the last decade, many novel treatment methods have been devised in this hospital. We've pushed the medical science forward, yes, we... this very Corazon Memorial Hospital you once decided to open," he emphasised. "It's not a fairy tale; it's reality, and we shape it with our own hands. Countless papers were written based on our work, and that in turn led to updating the medical textbooks or even writing them anew. New generations of doctors and nurses study from them. Moreover, the surgical and diagnostic technology have been greatly developed. Your work brought a progress of biochemistry and pharmacology as well, to say nothing about understanding the pathological processes. Ten years ago some disorders were a mystery, and now they are known in the whole world, their mechanisms figured out, and the treatment available for everyone in any hospital."

"Yes, but there's still many diseases that only the Ope Ope no Mi can cure," Law replied. "And new ones appear all the time. The other day, I treated a patient with encephalopathy. His brain tissue looked like a sponge, and the mutated proteins were wreaking havoc in his organism. I had never seen anything like that before, nor had I heard that anyone had described such a case," he noted. "It's impossible to remove all diseases from the face of the earth, they would always be here, and new ones, too..."

"It still doesn't change the fact that less and less people need the Ope Ope no Mi," Bepo stressed. "According to your secretary, the average time before admission had been reduced from over one year to _three_ months! It's something that hardly any hospital can achieve."

"But for those who need the Ope Ope no Mi even three months can be too long," Law pointed out. "And it sometimes is," he added in a lower voice. "That's why I can't and don't want to work less than I am able to."

"Nevertheless, that significant reduction in waiting time can't be explained just with you working more," Clione interjected. "If less patients are referred here, which is a fact, that means that more diseases can be cured without the Ope Ope no Mi, in the local hospitals, just like Bepo said."

Law said nothing; he stared at them in silence and wondered once again what he should do to make them give up and leave. He'd never wanted to associate with stupid people... but the problem with the clever ones was that they wouldn't be easily brushed off. He took a deep breath, ordering himself to remain calm, again.

"Then, what do you want from me?" he asked directly, having decided it would be the fastest way, although he didn't really want to know their answer.

"That you work less. You could shorten your work day... or, even better, take a day off from time to time," Bepo suggested.

"That's out of question," Law replied, folding his arms.

"Which one?" Clione asked.

Law shook his head and stared at his desk again. It seemed that he really needed to use all arguments, even though he'd rather not reveal certain things about himself. "Bepo knows how I feel upon learning that a patient scheduled for the admission died before the appointment," he said reluctantly, waving at Bepo. "He can give you a story about it... And you tell me to take a day off...! During one day, I can cure even ten terminally ill patients. Even if those ten aren't dying, somewhere on the waiting list are those that a single day can decide about their life and death. I can't imagine that I take a day off, knowing that someone dies, someone I could have cured but I chose to postpone it for the next day," he muttered, trying not to look at Clione, who probably would find a proper and professional word for such feelings.

However, it was Ikkaku who spoke next, "Then, why shouldn't we create a better system of selection or queuing?" she suggested. "The new wing is being built in order to admit more patients, right?" she asked, looking at Bepo, who nodded. "I take it that the waiting time for treatment will shorten. Why shouldn't we form _two_ queues: one for those who require the Ope Ope no Mi urgently, and the other for those who would do with the elective treatment? We could also create the urgency grading. Am I correct that so far the referrals have been accepted in the order they arrived... and the admissions scheduled accordingly?"

Law nodded. It was the main policy of the Corazon Memorial Hospital to never discriminate. "Yes, but if a referral mentions it's an urgent case, then we admit a patient free of turn," he replied.

"What if we make our own referral template?" Ikkaku went on. "Out hospital is special, so it wouldn't be strange if we required a specific referral. Apart from typical information, the form would contain also the urgency classification, like 'within a week', '1-4 weeks', or 'over 1 month'. I suppose the doctors wouldn't have problems assessing the patients' condition and classifying them as due group, but we may print the criteria on the reverse, too, along with the instruction how to fill the form."

Law stared at her in silence. The idea didn't sound bad... and maybe it really increased the chance that those in need of urgent treatment would receive it in time. "But wouldn't the patients and doctors criticise us for such a change?" he asked. "What about our policy of admitting everyone who needs treatment? Wouldn't they say we divide patients in more and less ill?"

"But we will be dividing," Ikkaku replied. "The question is, is there anything unethical about it? No. It's normal in medicine that there are urgent and non-urgent cases, and it determines every doctor's work. It's obvious that some need to be treated sooner, and the others may wait. Why should the Ope Ope no Mi impose or demand different criteria? Even if someone criticise us, we would act according to the most basic rule of the medical science."

Law mused. He couldn't find anything that he wouldn't like about the idea. "I think we can try," he said slowly. "But I'm afraid there will still be patients who won't live until their admission... for example they'll suddenly get worse or-"

"Instead of thinking of the pessimistic scenario, you'd better do something sensible," Ikkaku interrupted him. "For God's sake, Law, you're not responsible for _all_ people in the world...! Or how other doctors work. You can't feel guilty because someone assessed the condition of their patients as better than it really was, or didn't allow for the possible complications. It would be a sheer arrogance, nothing else," she said coldly. "In any case, the urgent patient will be sent here at once, and the rest will be given an appointment. The most important is that they arrive here in time. But we won't feel remorse if they won't have arrived for reasons _beyond_ our control. Right?" she asked with emphasis, but Law didn't react to that provocation, although he should have, for then she added, "And if you have problem with that, there is sitting a specialist who will be more than happy to help you overcome it," and pointed at the psychiatrist.

Clione looked at Law sheepishly and cleared his throat, then shook his head. "I may prepare the project of the form together with your secretary, and you can approve it later," he offered, leaving Ikkaku's words without a comment. "We'll need to send it to the Ministry of Health to be distributed in the hospitals. I think it's the most sensible way...?"

"If you could," Law muttered. The matter was fixed, so there was no point in talking about it any longer. "I really appreciate your proposal," he added in a lower voice, making Clione and Ikkaku nod.

"What else can we do?" Bepo asked. "Do you have any other ideas how we could control your work even better, so that you could sometimes allow yourself a day off?"

Law bristled immediately. He'd almost forgotten that the conversation concerned that particular topic. Damn, they were so stubborn... "I really appreciate your proposal," he repeated. "We're going to put it into practice, and I'm sure it'll have only positive results."

Ikkaku and Clione exchanged looks before looking at him again. "That idea would make sense only when it gives you some freedom and allows you to take leave from time to time," the head doctor of the fourth floor said. "If you know that you can control the urgent patients, you will be more at ease, right? And you won't feel guilty about having a day off."

"Those are two different things," Law replied. "I'm not going to take a day o-"

"Law, this is growing tiresome. Please, don't prolong it," Ikkaku murmured, displeased. "We give our best to play along with you, but you only take and don't give anything. Knock if off, man."

Clione wave at her to make her stop, never taking his eyes off Law. "Even if you don't like it, something must be done," he said. "We're not going to leave here until you promise us to decrease your pace of work, Law."

Law glared at him.

"It's not only us who worry about you," Bepo said. "We made a survey amongst the staff members and the patients recently. Over ninety-five percent of the hospital employers is of the opinion you should work less. Amongst the patients, it was eighty percent," he informed, taking several sheets out of the pocket of his coat. "Just listen. 'Dr Law works so hard, he should rest more often.' 'He should get a long holiday for what he does for the humanity.' 'I bet he'd like to sometimes sail in his pirate ship, but he only stays in the hospital all the time.' 'He starts his work before 5 AM, I don't know when he sleep.' 'I fear that he will work himself to death.' 'A doctor should be fresh, otherwise his patient may suffer.'" He looked at Law again. "And so on... Most people believe you're overworking yourself, and they fear that it will negatively affect your work."

"It won't," Law snarled. "How-"

Ikkaku banged her fist on the top of the cabinet when her fiery temper finally spoke up. "You're acting like a brat!" she called angrily. "It's beyond me how someone like you can be a hospital director. And my boss!"

"Ikkaku, calm down," Clione said before looking at Law again. "But it's true that your defiance doesn't look good in this situation. I understand that you feel like opposing everyone who doesn't think like you... I also think I understand the reasons for your workaholism..." he added in a softer voice. "But is there really no chance that we reach a compromise here?"

Law stared at him for a longer while in silence. It was true, he couldn't stand it when someone told him what to do... and he didn't allow it. He realised his defiance could be seen as childish, but... He acted the way he considered right. He wasn't going to give up. And they... none of them had any power to make him change his priorities. Even if they ganged up on him, the whole hospital... they couldn't affect his decisions.

"Go away, I'm busy," he said in the end.

Clione shook his head, and Ikkaku said, "Idiot!"

Bepo sighed sadly, then moved from the door and took a Baby Den Den Mushi out of his other pocket to say to it, "Chopper, bring him."

Law frowned; however, before he managed to ask anything, he could hear the stomping in the corridor that filled him with sheer terror. The next moment, the door was opened with a bang, letting inside the Pirate King, Straw Hat Luffy, who smiled at Law, which was more than grotesque in this situation.

Law answered to that smile with an expression saying 'Who let him into my hospital?' and inwardly promised that person suffering or cutting the salary. He felt like grinding his teeth.

"Torao! I heard you're overworking yourself!" Luffy called after he'd greeted everyone in the room. "It won't do! I loaf all the time, and you work all the time?!"

"Nature has to be kept in balance," Law snarled at him. "Someone must work so that someone else could loaf, it's logical. What do you want?" he asked, hoping it was only a bad dream. His former crew couldn't involve Straw Hat in this business, it was impossible, right...?

Luffy took out a crumpled paper from his pocket. "I got a letter from Sabo today. The government orders you to take one day off every week," he announced merrily, waving the paper.

Silence filled the room, so deep one could hear the ticking of the clock on the wall and screams of the gulls outside; Law could also hear the words, 'one day off every week' ringing in his ears. He was staring at the Straw Hat and wondered if it was really happening. The remaining three seemed to be under the very same impression, judging from their dazed expressions: all were looking at Luffy as if they'd just seen him for the first time.

As silence and general stillness prolonged, the Pirate King finally noticed it and stopped waving the paper. "What?" he asked, looking around.

Bepo was the first to emerge from the stupor. He tore the letter from Luffy's hands and swept its content with his eyes. "Nonsense. It's one day off per _month_," he said.

"Is it? Ah, I must have read wrong," Luffy decided lightly, shrugging, and then looked at Law again, happiness in his eyes. "It's good, isn't it, Torao? You can visit us. Our kids will be thrilled. I'll ask Hancock to prepare something good for you," he assured, nodding in enthusiasm.

Law ignored him altogether. "What is that?" he asked, staring at the paper.

Bepo examined it from the both sides. "A letter from the Prime Minister's office," he answered and began to read, "'Through the Pirate King, Straw Hat Luffy, I notify Trafalgar Law, Director of the Corazon Memorial Hospital on Raftel, that the restriction of his working and resting hours are introduced, and that he is obliged to one day of holiday per month. The restriction takes effect immediately. All relevant documents from the Ministry of Health and the Ministry of Labour shall be mailed within five days. Signed by Sabo, the Prime Minister in the World Government.' Look yourself," he came closer and showed the letter.

The stamps seemed genuine, as did the paper with the printed decorative header and the symbol of the World Government; that was how much Law managed to assess before the letters started to spin before his eyes. He shut his eyelids tight, but telling himself it was just a bad dream didn't help. When he opened his eyes again, the three doctors and one Pirate King were still standing in his office, and the situation was exactly the same as before. He clenched his jaws so hard that his teeth ached. He stared at Bepo, who had returned the letter to Luffy.

"You want to know how much that paper means to me?" he dawdled. "I wouldn't even wipe my ass with it. I'm not going to listen to the politics."

"Let me remind you we're no longer the pirates and we should respect the law, just like everyone," Bepo pointed out.

Law got up and leaned over, putting both hands on his desk. "No-one tells me how much I should work!" he raised his voice.

"What about the subsidies we get from the government? Our activity is financed both by state and private money. Even if _you_ don't collect your salary, what about out hundreds of workers? To say nothing of the cost of medications or maintenance," Bepo reminded. "We can't function without the public money, such are the facts. If they cut off the subsidies, we won't last long only on the private donations."

Law gaped at him in silence. He was under the impression it was the worst day of his life... one of the five worst. One of those he'd never allowed to happen if he'd only been able. Thousands of chaotic thoughts swirled in his mind, none of them sensible; he was filled with thousands different emotions, none of them pleasant.

"They can't close us," he uttered in the end, sitting down on his chair again. "The Corazon Memorial Hospital is one of the greatest treasures in the world, they can't-"

"No, Law. _You_ are one of the greatest treasures in the world," Bepo corrected. "And the government is well aware of it. You must take care of yourself. What's the point in working yourself to death?"

"Yeah, yeah!" Luffy called, apparently displeased with the act he'd been forgotten. "Of course, Torao, you must take care of yourself. I wouldn't be able to work all the time..."

"And that is why you're a king, and I'm a doctor," Law muttered.

"That's true, haha!" Luffy laughed as if he'd heard a good joke, but Law was far from laughing.

He still couldn't believe it. They'd conspired against him, everyone in the hospital including Bepo. And they'd brought Luffy in it, too, and even Sabo. He felt like he'd used to feel long ago: that the whole word was his enemy. Their reasons didn't matter; Law felt betrayed, felt like losing his footing. It was as if he had to, again, battle all the rest of people, alone, without a single companion on his side. He bit his lips and folded his arms, wishing that they all vanished from the face of the earth.

Luffy stopped laughing. "I didn't let you stay on Raftel so that you overwork yourself," he said. "You wanted to fulfil your dream, and it's true that the dreams are worth risking one's life... But it's no use to harm yourself if there's no need," he added, which was very wise for him... even though Law didn't agree, for the need was still there, for he was still realising his dream. "And you're so unwell already that you faint during the work...! Even I know it shouldn't be like that. Using the Ope Ope no Mi all the time shortens your lifespan, right?"

Bepo and Ikkaku groaned in unison. Law stared at Luffy and clenched his teeth, almost wishing him a sudden death... Right, he'd mentioned about it long ago, probably during fight with Doflamingo on Dressrosa... How could he be so stupid...?! But it wouldn't even occur to him that Straw Hat would remember something like that, and after so many years, on top of it. Once again, he had underestimated him. He'd never, not even once, mentioned that in his crew's presence, and now Luffy carelessly had undone all his efforts. Well, he could blame only himself.

"Is that true?" Clione asked.

"Damn you all... It had nothing to do with the Ope Ope no Mi!" Law said, ignoring the psychiatrist's question... although it was the answer itself. "It was just a short faint, and you're making a big deal of it!"

"Two faints," Bepo corrected; he still seemed to be shocked by Luffy's words.

"Two?" Ikkaku asked, anxiety growing in her eyes.

"Yes," Chopper confirmed, entering the office.

"It is decided, then," Clione said.

"What is decided?" Law called, jumping to his feet again. "I'm not going... Listen to me, only I have the Ope Ope no Mi," he tried to convince them. He was under the absurd impression that the tables had turned... and it wasn't nice at all. "Even if we implement the changes we've spoken about, we will still have plenty of patients. Only I can help those people that the conventional medicine can't. It's obvious I must treat them... everyone I am able to, no matter the cost. That's how I imagine my life until the very end."

"What if that end comes too fast?" Ikkaku asked.

Law regarded her coolly, sitting down. "Then the Ope Ope no Mi will be reborn and someone else will become the greatest do-"

A punch in his face cut him short. "TORAO!" Luffy yelled, jumping onto the desk. Before Law managed to react, the Pirate King grabbed him by the shirt and shake him. "I don't let you say such selfish things!"

Law focused his eyes on him. "I've always been selfish," he said and took Luffy's hands off his shirt. "I've always done what I wanted, never caring about what the others thought about it."

"Me too," Luffy replied simply. "And yet I know they would still be sad if I died, and I don't want that. I know what it means to lose a dear person. You know that too, right?"

Silence fell to last for a longer while, so deep that Law could hear his own heartbeat. He was looking Luffy in the eye, and Luffy was only looking back at him. His gaze was furious, serious and concerned, and so very open, for the Pirate King was the exact opposite of Trafalgar Law and had his emotions in the palm of his hand, instead of hiding and constantly controlling them.

Finally, Law looked around the room, fastening his eyes on every person in turn. Ikkaku with a frown, upset and distressed. Clione with gentle yet concerned expression. Chopper with clear anxiety on his face. Bepo - tired, stressed out, worrying for who knew how long. And Straw Hat Luffy, the Pirate King, who had attained everything and didn't want to lose those really important things, even if he had to keep them by force. A woman, a transvestite, a mink, a reindeer, and a rubber man; they were so different, yet something connected them, and Law knew what it was. That bitter-sweet emotion in his chest, soothing all his anger, could tell him that.

Even if he wasn't able to love them with that love that made one's heart explode... even if he couldn't give them much, actually ridiculously little... even if he didn't value himself and didn't deserve it... he was aware that he was dear to them, and not only them. They'd followed him to the end of the world and were still staying by his side, despite all he said and did, despite his egoism. They didn't wish him any harm and didn't want to lose him. All their words, all their attempts to convince him... They didn't want to impose their will on him - they only wished that he sometimes thought of himself.

Were they really demanding too much? Was it really impossible that he gave up on his stance, yielded one inch and accepted their concern? Should he really fight them, even though he knew well they weren't his enemies, only allies, and the best he might have? Should he really resent them for what they were doing, when he realised that their actions resulted solely from their attachment to him? Must he really persist in his stubborn attitude urging him to work himself to death instead of being happy that there were people who cared about him just as Law, and not as the user of the Ope Ope no Mi?

'You know how it is to lose a dear person,' Luffy's words were still ringing in his ears. He knew, as he knew there was nothing worse than that. Even if he wasn't to them someone that Cora-san had been to him, comparison of feelings was pointless. When a dear person died, a hole would open in the reality, and nothing could ever fill it. It was obvious that people did what they could to never let it happen.

If back then, twenty-six years ago, Law had realised the danger... he would have done anything to stop Cora-san, right? He would have used any method and any mean to keep him from harm. Without caring about his own pride or benefit, he would have begged him to think it over... resorting to entreaties, threats, tears, maybe even violence. Such was love, and it sometimes worked against logic... and sometimes in full accordance with it.

He sighed. "One day, right?" he said resignedly, although it took all his strength, trying not to think he would always regret it. "One day per month... no more."

The relief that filled the room was so palpable that Law almost felt ashamed. Ikkaku went to the coach and plumped on it next to Clione, as if her legs stopped carrying her. The psychiatrist leaned his head onto the backrest and closed his eyes. Chopper seemed ready to jump for joy, and Bepo only nodded, never breaking the eye contact. Luffy, still squatting on the desk, grinned and patted Law on the shoulder, as if they'd never argued.

"Now you're talking like a man! That's my Torao!" he called proudly as he kept patting him. "Now… let's have a party!" he declared, staring at everyone with enthusiasm.

"Straw Hat, hey..." Law tried to object.

"I'm afraid a party is impossible right now," Bepo said quickly, coming closer. "Hospital director has a very important work to do."

"Whaaat?" the Pirate King moaned with disappointment. "You're boring... But there's no help," he decided cheerfully the very next moment and jumped off the desk; somehow, he managed not to throw down any charts. "We'll have a party when you visit us, Torao," he announced and then looked around the room. "Actually all of you should come! Actually... there's always party in my place," he informed and grinned again.

"That sounds great, thank you very much for an invitation," Bepo said politely, glancing at Law. "But now... We can't hold you up. The Pirate King must have many duties..."

"What?" Luffy asked in astonishment. "Cookies? I don't have many... Ah, I haven't eaten Sanji's cookies for a while," he said with some resentment but then beamed. "I must have him bake me some. I'm going to ask him to send you, too!" he declared generously. "See you!"

"Luffy, one moment," Clione stopped him, moving to the edge of the coach and looking at Law, who automatically gathered all papers scattered by Straw Hat and put them in a pile agan. "I know you'd rather think of it later, but... It would be better if you decided _which_ day you're going to make your free day. Why wouldn't you tell us _now?_ "

Law wasn't deceived by the psychiatrist's gentle smile... but before he managed to answer, Chopper joined the conversation. "Actually... Do you really think he's going to take a day off?" the reindeer-doctor asked with an innocent curiosity, looking at the other doctors. "I bet he's going to say that something came up and he has a lot of work..."

"Well, he did agree awfully fast," Ikkaku said, and Law kind of felt offended by such a lack of trust.

"Hey, guys..."

"How can we be certain he's going to really take leave?" Clione added. "And that he not only won't be using the Ope Ope no Mi for the whole day, but also wouldn't think of work...?"

"Wouldn't think of work? I think that's impossible. We must be realistic," Bepo decided, making the others nod reluctantly.

In the silence that fell one could almost hear the intense brainwork happening, and Law didn't know if he should consider that situation comical or, rather, be angry. Much to his surprise, it was Luffy who emerged as the first from that collective thinking. He made a palm-fist tap and beamed, as if a bulb turned on over his head, which made Law brace himself, awaiting some ridiculous idea.

"That he wouldn't use the Ope Ope no Mi? I know! I know!" the Pirate King called like a kid in a class, raising his hand. "Seastone handcuffs!" he announced eagerly.

"Hey, Straw Hat... A fellow Devil Fruit user shouldn't suggest such things," Law said reprovingly.

The others, however, stared at Luffy appreciatively. "That's... a good idea," Chopper agreed, and Law immediately considered him to be another traitor. "We should procure them."

"I wouldn't be able to move," Law reminded them, trying to remain patient.

Everyone turned their heads to look at him, and it seemed they eyes flashed... before they continue the conversation as if he weren't here.

"Yes... That's a good idea," Chopper repeated.

"He would have a whole day of a good rest," Bepo added, touched. "Just think of the benefits...!"

"But... against his will?" Ikkaku asked doubtfully. "It wouldn't be very ethical, right...?"

Now it was Clione that everyone looked at. "Sometimes we use coercive measures in case of the patients who need to be tranquillised and they aren't capable of it themselves," the psychiatrist said somewhat sheepishly, but Law wouldn't be fooled by that.

He was again pierced by the five pairs of eyes when everyone turned to him. He almost shuddered at the very thought, so terrible it was. He couldn't imagine greater torture than a whole day of total inactivity; he would undoubtedly go crazy...! He would have to find out which one of them had those handcuffs, and replace them with normal ones. Long ago, back in his pirate times, that trick had saved his life several times...

It was only the next moment that he realised the absurd of that thought and felt mad that he'd let himself be drawn into their visions. He wouldn't let anyone put the seastone handcuffs on him, not even the normal ones.

And, besides, he didn't really believe they might do something to him, regardless of how concerned about him they were.

Probably.

"You could trust me a bit, okay?" he said with resentment; it was pretty much faked, for he rather felt like rolling his eyes. "You know that I always keep my word..."

"Torao, do you promise?" Luffy asked, putting his hands on the desk and giving him a serious look. "That you won't be using the Ope Ope no Mi or working at all on your day off?"

"I promise," Law muttered, trying not to grind his teeth. "But let me choose the day myself, at least," he asked, feeling it was the greatest farce of his life... and once again regretted having thought of involving Straw Hat in his business, all those years ago. He would undoubtedly reap the fruits of that decision for the rest of his life.

"All right," Luffy agreed generously. "New Year's Day would do," he said the next moment as if he'd just decided that.

"That's out of question! Anything but that!" Law almost bristled. He used to be on call on the New Year's Day, so that the majority of his colleagues could have a free day."

"Then what day?" Clione, that terrible sticker, asked, and Law once again came to the conclusion that he didn't like the psychiatrists; they wouldn't let a person off the hook before getting all their answers out of them...

"Let it be... the 16th of the month," he said resignedly. Today was 17th, which meant that his nearest day off would be a whole month from now... as far in the future as possible. He'd preferably suggested 31st, but some of them would've undoubtedly noticed that only a few months had thirty-one days, so it wouldn't have been accepted anyway.

"Sixteenth, okay," Bepo muttered, and the others nodded. Chopper went as far as taking the pocket diary out of his coat and marking the day.

Luffy made a sad face, but soon enough he shrugged. "No matter the day, you must visit us!" he called happily, and Law immediately decided that the Pirate King's palace would be the last place in the world he would visit. "I'll still be on Raftel on January 16, Torao!" he informed, then said goodbye and left, before Law managed to tell him not to run inside the hospital.

He comforted himself with the thought there were no wards on this floor, only office rooms, educational spaces and the canteen, and Luffy used to enter and exit the hospital through the balcony at the end of the corridor.

Following Luffy's suit, the others quickly left, too - apparently, they didn't feel as confident without the Pirate King, who was the only person capable of controlling Trafalgar Law - and only Bepo stayed.

"It's you who organised that, right?" Law guessed.

"Are you mad?" the mink answered with a question.

Law sighed and shook his head. "What will be, will be," he said. "But... don't inform the papers about it, okay?" he asked.

Bepo gave him a surprised look and then smiled. "Okay," he assured him.

Silence filled the room. Law was glad that the mink didn't continue the topic. It didn't result from fear; Bepo simply knew that Law wouldn't stand being praised for his decision, not after having resisted making it for so long. Also, he was probably aware how much that affair had hurt his pride. Then, even if he were happy that Law had finally backed down and modified his attitude, he didn't show that happiness, just like the rest of them. Law knew well that they hadn't wanted to defeat him, and he supposed the other doctors didn't feel any more comfortable than he.

When Bepo broke the silence, his words confirmed what Law had thought, "I'm sorry. I don't regret what we've done, but I realise it wasn't nice for you."

Law waved his hand. That was one of the many reasons why he could never be really angry with the mink. "Don't worry about it," he said. "Like I said, what will be, will be."

Bepo nodded. "Then, I'm not going to disturb you any longer. We've already taken too much of your time."

Law looked at the medical charts on his desk. "That's damn true," he replied.

"But don't stay up too long," Bepo requested, and Law winced.

Then, however, he remembered something. "Bepo... Using the Ope Ope no Mi probably doesn't shorten my lifespan," he said reluctantly. "Only when I make a very big ROOM and maintain it for a long time. But it happened only when I was fighting. I don't need to do it for treatment. Straw Hat might have spared himself saying that, when he doesn't really have any idea... You believe me, don't you?" he asked anxiously.

The mink nodded. "I do. Thanks for telling me," he replied and left.

Law leaned back on his chair and stared at the ceiling. It was pointless to get frustrated with what had happened. His decision would certainly return to him often enough - at least once per month - so he could as well stop wondering about it now. Instead, he mused over the fact that no person lived in a void. Even if sometimes he wished it was so... there were always people and circumstances that his existence affected. Was it good or bad, he didn't feel like thinking of it today; he only came to the cautious conclusion he didn't entirely hate it.

He realised he wasn't as irritated he could have been. To tell the truth... he felt somewhat relieved. Not because he'd been forced to take one day off - _that_ he still considered completely pointless, and if he could, he would go back on his word right away - only because the whole thing was finally over. It had taken weeks, even months, but now it was out of his hair. He would no longer need to listen to others commenting his lifestyle, nor would he need to constantly assure them he was all right. He wouldn't need to hear Ikkaku's nagging and be upset by Clione's psychoanalysis. He would never argue with Bepo...

Well, at least the last one was likely; knowing Ikkaku and Clione, they would never stop bothering him. That was how they were, they nagged and psychoanalysed him, and there was no help.

He rose from the desk and went onto the balcony. He rested his hands on the railing. The air was sharp, frosty, but calm. The waves were quietly splashing on the shore. The moon was painting a silver line on the black ocean. Judging from the sounds, a ship was calling at a port. It was normal evening outside the Corazon Memorial Hospital; the world hadn't noticed that Trafalgar Law's life had been turned upside down.

He stared at the stars on the velvet firmament. 'Cora-san, have I done right thing? Is it okay? Am I really allowed to not use the Ope Ope no Mi... not help people that one day? Cora-san...?' In fact, he was asking himself, for he knew how Cora-san would've answered. 'Of course, you silly!', pat on the head and a smile.

In the end, he decided he just would have to work more on the other days. It wasn't impossible. He took a deep breath of sea air and returned to the paperwork. Getting to it was much easier than he'd expected.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

The end of the year wasn't eventful, and that trend continued in January as well. Law spent the New Year's Day according to his own tradition: staying on call. To tell the truth, it wasn't that much of a pleasant change as it usually tested his patience and charity, for the majority of his customers were people injured by playing with fireworks. For some reason, humankind wouldn't understand that the firecrackers were dangerous, and learn to use them with caution, and that was why every year Law spent hours recreating fingers, noses and eyeballs. This time, amongst others, he saw a man whom a cracker hit straight in the forehead, tore his skull and destroyed some parts of brain. Only remembering his medical ethics helped Law muster a little bit of empathy required for treating, for his common sense was of the opinion that the humanity would be much happier without that one idiot, while such thinking didn't really befit a doctor.

Of one thing, however, he was glad: using the Ope Ope no Mi for a longer period of time didn't cause any sensation like fainting, which he'd subconsciously feared. He really didn't want to go through what had happened this autumn, again. The New Year's shift reassured him that everything was fine. After all, he wasn't even forty! According to the medical standards, he was still a young man. (He conveniently 'forgot' the fact that using the Ope Ope no Mi for fighting in the past must have shortened his life expectancy already; he didn't feel like bothering about it now). There was no reason that his health should be affected.

The weather was fine, with the temperatures around zero. Snow was laying in the highest regions of the island, but it had no chance to stay longer on the coast. During those thirteen years Law had spent on Raftel, only one winter had been so cold that the sea by the shore had frozen; this year, however, it didn't seem likely. Of course, there were people who complained about such mild winters, but Law tried not to listen to them... even though he really didn't go outside, so he couldn't care less about the weather.

Then, however, January 15 came, and the situation changed drastically. Law spent a very nice evening with the medical charts, planning tomorrow's surgeries, and was about to inform the wards about the detailed schedule, when his inner calendar reminded him that tomorrow was his enforced day off. His secretary had long since taken account of it and appointed the new patients for the day after tomorrow.

He frowned and put down the receiver, then leaned back on his chair. His good mood vanished, replaced by a feeling of displeasure. In the last weeks, he'd managed to forget about what Bepo, Ikkaku and Clione had forced him to, in co-operation with Luffy and, of all people, the World Government. Now he was kicking himself for having yielded to their will and decided to take one day off per month! One day off! The thought of how many people he could cure and admit in that time, filled him with despair. He almost hoped that tomorrow something unexpected would happen, something that would _require_ him to stay at work... but then he decided that hoping for a catastrophe was fundamentally immoral and couldn't be explained by any personal reasons, so he quickly stopped.

Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. The truth was he had promised, and Trafalgar Law just wasn't someone who broke his promises, so it didn't even occur to him to try and wriggle out of it, or argue again for cancelling that circus. Even if the vision of one day off filled him with... well, maybe not exactly terror, just reluctance... he would somehow manage. He'd defeated Donquixote Doflamingo, had contributed to the fall of the Four Emperors of the Sea, had survived already thirteen years close to the most crazy Pirate King that had even walked or sailed in this world; compare with that, one day off really didn't seem impossible. He would occupy himself with something - he could read the medical journals, have a glance at the blueprints of the new wing, browse through the submitted resumes, or read the recent papers written by his colleagues - and January 16 would just pass. Comforted by that conclusion, he called the wards and scheduled the surgeries for the day after tomorrow.

However, when January 16 came, it once again made him understand that life was never as pleasant as one planned it to be. At first, everything was going well: he remembered not to put on his white coat, then ate his breakfast at 4 AM - alone, for Bepo didn't come to the canteen this morning - and then sat down by his desk to soon become absorbed in the world medical journals. Around seven, however, the door of his office opened, revealing the head of the emergency unit, and very displeased, too.

"What are you doing here?" Bepo asked, clearly striving to remain calm.

"Reading a surgery journal...?" Law replied, moving his glasses down his nose.

"You're supposed to have a day off," the mink reminded him.

"Well, I have."

"You have a day off, staying in your office and reading a surgery journal?" Bepo asked, frowning.

"Actually this office is my flat, too," Law noticed. "I'm not treating anyone; I'm not going to even look at the patients or use the Ope Ope no Mi. What's the problem?"

Bepo closed his eyes and took a deep breath before looking at him again. "Holiday doesn't mean merely 'not working'. Just like health doesn't mean merely 'absence of disease," he said. "You should do something fun. _Relax._ Do you know what it means?"

Law straightened in his chair. "You didn't need to say that," he declared. "Then, what do you think I sh-" he started and paused, for what he'd planned to say didn't do credit to his intelligence.

Bepo shook his head and sighed, which Law interpreted as 'You're hopeless'. He didn't really know why he'd thought that; Bepo would never make such a remark. The mink looked outside; it was getting bright. "It's quiet now down there," he said. "And I'm free for the next hour, so we can go for a walk."

Law blinked. "Bepo, I'm not a kid," he replied. "You don't have to _babysit_ me."

"I'm not going to _babysit_ you," the mink answered right away. "I only want to show you how you should spend a free day since-" He stopped.

'Since you don't know how to do it, yourself,' Law finished for him in thought, although he still had no idea where it came from. Maybe from the events of the autumn he'd learned to look at his situation from the others' point of view... What a pity that what he saw wasn't pleasant.

"Well, come on," the mink said, waving at him encouragingly. "It's not like you're going to die from it."

Law was aware that if he objected, he would either hear a lecture or get into another argument. Besides... Bepo was right: it wouldn't kill him if they had a walk and talked a bit. After all, it was _Bepo_, his best friend and someone Law knew as well he knew himself. Talking with Bepo was never a waste of time.

He nodded and got up, put on his jacket, and they left. It was yet another fine day with a cloudless sky that was light-blue at this time of year. It wasn't freezing; a light breeze was blowing, smelling of the salt. Despite January, the lawn in front of the hospital was green. Law wondered where they would head to; if Bepo could spare him one hour, they could have a walk in the park or on the beach...

The mink turned to the side gate, which meant a seaside walk. Soon, before their eyes spread a scenery limited only by horizon, one that every man of the sea must have considered the most beautiful in the world at some point of his life. Under the azure sky water was like a pale sapphire, marked in places by white of spume and gulls. The waves gently and almost noiselessly were washing the sand, peculiar under their feet in winter. For most of the people, the day had only started, so the two of them were the only ones on the beach.

"You skipped breakfast... Anything happened?" Law asked as they walked on the white sand, although he quickly regretted it, certain that Bepo would scold him for talking about work.

The mink, however, replied, "We had triplets with laryngitis."

"Triplets? You don't mean that they oedema at the same time...?"

Bepo nodded. "Mother got them into the pram and ran here... They live in the harbour, so she didn't think of calling an ambulance. Of course, the symptoms subsided on cold the moment they went outside, but the kids started to get blue as soon as they were brought into the hospital."

"All three of them?"

"Yes."

"Biology amazes me sometimes," Law decided. "Though, they were triplets..."

"In any case, we suddenly had work for three people, you know."

Law nodded absently. Then, before he managed to bite his tongue, he asked, "How it is that you work as much as I, and still reproach me for never taking a vacation?"

Bepo looked at him, perplexed. "I don't work as much as you," he replied. "First, I always have one day off per week. Second, I don't work all the time. You know that I sleep at night if it's quiet, and I often take naps during the day, too. We don't have that many patients in our emergency unit. I think that I have some three time less work than you... plus aforementioned day off. Besides, it's a normal work, with no Devil Fruit that would exhaust my energy." He paused, then sighed quietly before speaking again, "I no longer reproach you, for now you _do_ take a vacation."

Law brushed away another pestering thought: that Bepo would rather he took a vacation more often than just one day per month. He realised that sooner or later his colleagues would raise that topic again and undoubtedly demand that extended his holiday... Law wished he could find it amusing or, at least, touching; unfortunately, the whole matter stirred mostly negative emotions because he didn't feel any need to have a free day.

Now that he thought about it, he felt guilty again. He suddenly stopped in his track, which made Bepo stop as well. "It's not right," he said, clenching his fists.

"What isn't?"

Law shook his head, fixing his eyes on the pale sand. "I should be working now," he muttered. "It makes no sense that so many people are waiting for my help, and I'm doing nothing."

"It doesn't," Bepo objected. "And it's perfectly right that you have a day off. You're a human, just like everyone, and you deserve some rest."

"I rest at night," Law muttered under his breath, then ran his hand through his hair. "How could I relax if I know that this one day may decide of someone's life and death?"

"Then maybe I really should have let you continue reading," Bepo replied with another sigh. "You apparently could focus on that...?"

Law shrugged and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He stared at the sea to sea a ship approaching the island: the first morning ferry.

"I read that issue of the Journal of Surgery," Bepo said and resumed walking, and Law followed. "What do you think of that new procedure of treating the stomach cancer from the North Blue?"

"It seems they're getting really good results. Uni already consulted it with me the other day. He'd like to try it."

They continued their walk, discussing the most recent medical news. Law was aware that probably Bepo just wanted to draw his attention from unpleasant things, but such conversation were always nice, nonetheless. They'd been still kids when they'd met for the first time, and Law knew he could trust his former navigator more than anyone else. It was never hard to talk with Bepo, and he usually enjoyed it... unless they talked about his own well-being. Well, recently they'd been talking only about medicine.

"Do you remember that the World Congress of Emergency Medicine takes place next month?" the mink spoke.

"Now that you mentioned it, I do," Law replied with a wry smile. "Did they invite you to be a speaker again?"

Bepo shook his head. "No, but I still want to go. It's a high-level meeting, I always learn something new. By the way..."

"Yes?"

"I wonder if we could organise something similar here..." the mink said, pensive.

"Here? In our hospital?" Law asked, frowning.

"No. Just here, on Raftel."

"I don't think we have a sufficient infrastructure..." Law replied. "I do suspect we could turn the New Piece to the congress centre, Nami would probably agree to that, but we have no hotel capacity. I bet a few thousands or even more would like to participate in such an event... Where would we accommodate them?"

"In the palace? Or the Four Islands?" Bepo suggested.

"Or everyone would come with their own tent," Law retorted ironically.

"In any case, I believe many doctors would gladly visit Raftel..."

"You mean that a few thousands people would fool around our hospital?"

"Come one, why fool around..." the mink replied. "Of course we wouldn't let the whole crowd inside! We could make a presentation, show them pictures and describe our work."

"I see you really want to do it," Law muttered, glancing at him. "But organising something like that would require a hell of a lot of work. You would need to find a right person to coordinate everything."

"Then, you're not entirely against the idea?" Bepo asked.

"Why should I be? If it doesn't disadvantage our hospital, why not? I'm sure that the World Medical Association would be interested and contribute to the organisation. You should consult them and set a date for the congress. It should be fine in two-three years, we'll have everything ready by then," Law decided. "But first the realistic estimation of the participants must be made, and ascertain if new hotels could be built on Raftel and the Four Island, and if yes, then who would pay for it. Franky would surely help, if he isn't busy with other things. As for the catering, I think we already have enough restaurants to provide meals even for the thousands of guests. But maybe we will need to increase the ferry connections..." He mused. "What kind of a congress it would be? Of general or specialised medicine?"

He turned to Bepo and saw the mink staring at him with his mouth open. "What?" he asked.

Bepo shook his head and smiled. "Nothing. Your organising skills have just amazed me once again, that's all."

Law rolled his eyes. "Those are just basic things," he muttered.

"Yeah, sure... As for your question, I think that the general medicine is fine... for starters."

"For starters?"

"Well, you know, since we'll already be having that infrastructure and experience, it would be a shame to never use it again," Bepo said innocently, but his eyes gleamed.

"The next thing you'll say is that you're going to make Raftel the centre of world medicine," Law snorted.

"Isn't it already?" the mink asked, rather stating the fact than being presumptuous; Bepo was never being presumptuous. "Speaking of which... If we really organise that congress, the greatest doctor in the world will be bound to show himself there."

"I should've known you plan to involve me."

"Come on, it'll be enough if you have some fifteen minutes speech at the opening ceremony..."

Talking about the possible congress, they reached Roger Bay, the very first town that had been founded on Raftel and the island's only harbour. At the stall, Bepo bought two tuna skewers.

"There's nothing better than a fresh fish in the morning," he said as they headed for the market square.

"Fresh? This one is grilled, though..." Law pointed out, although he felt like smiling.

"Don't play with words," the mink replied with fake indignation. "Why do we have to eat breakfast at _four_? I must always settle for yesterday's fish."

"I don't force you to eat with me. You can have a breakfast later..."

"You wish," Bepo replied in a voice that clearly said he wasn't going to give up on the meal they used to start the day with... and Law was grateful for that.

The port clock struck a quarter to eight. "I have to go," Bepo said, throwing the stick in the trash bin.

"Wait, I'll return with you," Law said.

"You have a day off," the mink reminded him with a glare. "Go for a longer walk or something. Go to the New Piece, I think they are open around the clock. Have a lunch in the All Baratie. Go to the museum or the cinema. You really could spend the whole day there, you haven't been there before, right? Bye!" Then he waved goodbye, turned away and ran towards the hospital, quickly vanishing from sight.

Law was left alone in the market of the port town... and suddenly noticed how noisy and bustling it was around him. He finished his tuna skewer and binned the stick, then shoved his hands into his pockets, pulled his head into his shoulders and hid his nose behind the collar of his jacket. He realised he hadn't been here for ages. In last years, he'd hardly ever left the Corazon Memorial Hospital, and if he had, then only in emergencies, when the Ope Ope no Mi and its ability to save lives would be needed. Now, however, he was here... privately. And Bepo had told him to spend the whole day outside...! Law would lie if he said he felt comfortable, and wished he could return to his office already.

People were passing him, talking and laughing, some in a hurry, others at a leisurely pace, young and old, women and men. The stalls were besieged by customers wishing to buy groceries and other goods. A pleasant smell of fresh fish was coming from one side, and not so pleasant smell of freshly baked bread was coming from the other. Law could hear the merchants pitching their commodities. A ship's whistle came from the sea; a ship was calling to a port. The dogs were barking. A woman watering her flowers knocked over one pot that then fell down right before an elderly man that was walking underneath, which made him swear. A group of children ran to the school, and their bags were hitting everyone who was so unfortunate as to cross their path.

Law was standing amongst all that and, in the first place, felt amazed that no-one was paying any attention to him. It wasn't a conceit, only... He'd just thought that his face was well known to every person in the world. But, he understood, probably no-one expected to see Trafalgar Law in the middle of the port town when it was a common knowledge - especially after those articles he recollected with a wince - that he used to spend his whole time at work... Still, he didn't plan to tempt his luck... and he wanted to move somewhere with fewer people, too.

"So it's that road that leads to the New Piece?" he overheard a woman speaking.

"That's what it says," a male voice replied.

"But it's pretty far... and uphill, too."

"We can get a taxi, dear."

Law looked up. Two meters away, a young couple was standing and staring at something above his head, although they soon left to search for a transport. Law turned his head and saw a signpost with numerous boards pointing at, among others, the Pirate King's Palace, the Corazon Memorial Hospital, and the nearest taxi rank. It made sense since the market marked the central point where the main roads of the town were crossing... With his eyes, Law followed the main road leading inside the island; outside the city, it started to rise, only to reach the destination after some six kilometres. Even from here, one could see the colourful roof of the palace-entertainment complex New Piece... or how they should call the place where Straw Hat Luffy had made a home for himself and all those wishing to stay near him.

He shook his head. No, he wasn't going there. Even if he did as Bepo's suggested, and spent the day outside the hospital, the New Piece was the last spot on Raftel he would visit, especially that it was probably surrounded by snow. For some reason, however, his legs started moving themselves and carry him towards the mountain. Maybe that wide and empty road stretching before him seemed much more encouraging than the town filled with people...? It wasn't like he had to enter New Piece; he just could walk there and then come back, or even turn somewhere on his way, right?

It was with relief that he left the bustling Roger Bay behind, with its market and harbour, with locals and visitors. Raftel's population was constantly growing, even though the island had been inhabited only for a dozen years, starting with Luffy's arrival. Now there were quite a few towns here and smaller villages, for the Pirate King - and the greatest doctor in the world - acted like a magnets. For many people, Raftel was the place where history had started anew, which made it popular and even trendy. Thirteen years ago, the island had been marked on maps, and establishing the sea connection had made it accessible to anyone. Its location was no longer any mystery, and yet it kept attracting and alluring people.

Geography-wise, Raftel was pretty mountainous, with the only lowlands being situated near the coast. Not so far from the shoreline, the terrain started to rise and undulate, covered mostly in forest. The soil was fertile enough that the crops could be grown, to say nothing about other plants, so not only merchants and craftsmen had come here but also farmers, whose homesteads Law was now passing on his way to the New Piece. As the terrain ascended, the usable area was getting more scarce, as were the houses, which couldn't be said about the signposts, positioned in the regular intervals all along the road. They assured the traveller that he or she was certainly on the right way... although Law was of the opinion that only Zoro could become lost here. The boards themselves were quite a piece of art, decorated with the pictures of Luffy's former crew members in strange poses and with interesting expressions, and, of course, the symbol of the Pirate King. Law remembered that the signs pointing at the Corazon Memorial Hospital contained the former symbol of the Heart Pirates, too, but fortunately it hadn't occurred to anyone to decorate them with Law's picture. He had no idea how Luffy persuaded the rest of the Straw Hats into it; maybe they'd decided it to be a nice change from having their faces on the wanted posters for previous years...

The weather was fine, and the sun was moving up on the azure sky. At this hour, the road was almost empty, and Law was only occasionally passed by the taxis carrying the first tourists to the entertainment centre, those that had arrived on the morning ferry. It was probably the same ship that new patients used to arrive, too... This thought made Law feel guilty again; he slowed down and, in the end, came to the halt and looked back. The Grand Line was sparkling like a sapphire down there. He couldn't see the hospital now, obscured by the hills and trees, but it was certainly there, right to Roger Bay.

He knew he couldn't go back. He'd promised to have a day off and had to endure it, even at the cost of being crushed by his conscience. If he returned to work, Bepo and the others wouldn't leave him be, for his arguments - logical, medical, and ethical - just didn't work on them. Then, he had _promised_, and it mattered, too. He just had to cope with that, somehow. He looked up again. It was probably around nine, which meant that the day was passing and it would pass completely at some point. The New Piece wasn't that bad idea; like Bepo said, it could busy Law and occupy his thought for many hours, and it was what he needed the most.

Trying to focus on other things than his work and the patients, he resumed walking, moving his legs with more energy than required. The higher he was, the more snow he could see in the shadowy spot under the brush. The road, however, was clean; he remembered that Franky had planted the heating system underneath. After Nami's repetitive complaints about being forced to trudge through the snow (despite Sanji being more than happy to carry her), the chief engineer of the Straw Hats had decided to install such an improvement. Law was grateful both to him and Nami.

He occasionally glanced behind to admire even deeper shade of the ocean. The road kept bending, and the spruces were growing even thicker, so he could spot only a little fragment of water, but even that much gladden him. Just like many former pirates, Law had sea in his blood and felt the best with the sea in his sight. However, he was already pretty high and could no longer taste the salt in the air, which was now filled with the smell of resin, neither could he hear the waves, only screams of the falcons over his head. Apparently, the nature didn't care in the slightest about the great entertainment complex nearby, although Law remembered that Franky had taken great care that it was environment friendly and didn't affect the ecosystem. Much emphasis had been given to soundproofing and lightproofing, otherwise it would have been like opening a disco in the middle of a national park. Even the taxis moving between the complex and the harbour were eco-friendly: they didn't produce any pollution or noise. The Straw Hats had agreed that the nature of Raftel should be preserved, and Law could still remember the great impression that the wild, untouched by civilisation island had made on him when he'd first landed in this place of the end and beginning.

Finally, he reached the dam of the cirque that Luffy had built his house in. The road ran over the edge to descend a bit. Although the scenery was clearly mountainous, with the rock walls hanging from the three sides, the height above sea level wasn't too big to make it impossible for normal green to grow here, and thus the cirque was filled with the majestic spruces. The bottom of the basin, however, was devoid of the trees, and there stood a building that was unlike anything else in the world. Franky must have used his vivid imagination to the fullest when designing it, although it was possible that Luffy had actively participated in the process, as well. Generally speaking, the building was a mixture of probably all existing architectural styles and ethnic influences. Round and square towers, cloisters and arches, big and small windows, straight and upturned roofs. The portions were of different height, materials, and colours. The building was surrounded by ponds, gardens and playgrounds filled with the bronze and marble statues, arbours, and kids' equipment, now covered with snow. On the top of the tallest tower had been attached the jolly roger of the Straw Hat Pirate Crew, fluttering in the wind that hardly ever ceased blowing at this altitude. All in all, the property seemed to belong to a complete madman, which fitted, for Monkey D. Luffy was one of the greatest freaks under the sun and the very negation of the word 'normal'. The palace had several floors and could accommodate hundreds of people; the guests never ended, for Luffy's adventure in search of the One Piece had brought him many, many friends, not only in the Grand Line. It was obvious that every of them wished to visit him at least once in his place.

Right to the palace was the entertainment complex of a proud name 'New Piece', stylistically more consistent and subdued colour-wise. It contained an aquapark, an amusement park, restaurants, shops, museums, a concert hall and even a cinema, together with a hotel for the guests wishing to spend a longer while here.

Law chose the right path, leading to the entrance, but he managed to take only a few steps before he heard a crescendo, "HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY!", and the next moment the Pirate King, Straw Hat Luffy, landed next to him on the stone pavement. It seemed he'd jumped down from the palace. "Torao! It's really you!" he called happily, patting Law at the back. "I knew you would come! It's your free day, right?"

Law stared at him in silence. Here was standing the last person he'd wanted to meet today... but he could blame only himself for having come here. If anything amazed him, it was the fact that Luffy remembered about his day off. But, he quickly realised, the Pirate King's ability to remember such things had surprised him before, already. "I felt like going to the New Piece," he muttered. "I've never been there before..."

"No way!" Luffy objected. "You must vist us! We can go to the New Piece later! I'll show you everything," he offered with enthusiasm that was adding the exclamation mark to his every sentence.

Law knew from experience that any protest was futile, and only nodded. Luffy brightened even more and took the left path. "But you didn't look out for me since morning, did you?" Law asked ironically.

"No, I was sitting on the roof and-" Luffy suddenly stopped. "I forgot! We can't find Faran. It seems he went somewhere last night, no-one has seen him today, so I got up to have a look..."

Law remembered that Faran was the second to last child of Luffy and Hancock and was... five...! "Idiot!" he called angrily. "He's just a kid. If he went to the forest, he might hurt himself. And it's winter, too."

"Come on, he's my son," Luffy said with a silly grin. "He'll be fine."

"Why didn't you use Haki?" Law scolded him. "Ah, never mind. Let's search for him. You take the left side, and I take the right. If we don't find him, let's meet in this place again."

Luffy nodded and headed for the forest. Law activated Colour of Observation and set it to be able to find any source of energy corresponding to a small kid, at least. According to Luffy, the boy was nowhere near the palace, so he probably could be find in the green. Law created ROOM covering that part of the valley and started to teleport between what his Haki caught. He made an acquaintance of a lynx hunting the hares, ran into a middle-aged guy lying on the snow and, judging from the reek of alcohol, obviously sleeping off the fun of the last night, and startled a couple of apparent masochists in the middle of morning caresses in the bosom of winter nature.

The boy, however, was nowhere to be seen. Could he have gone further up in the mountains? No, Law could detect no energy other than that of the herd of chamois that he saw with his naked eye. Maybe the kid had walked over the dam and down, to the coast? Should he search for him there? No, he first needed to contact Straw Hat.

He returned to the spot they'd parted at, and was relieved to see Luffy approaching from the opposite side, together with a flushed boy who was undoubtedly his son, holding his hand. "HEEEY!" the Pirate King called upon seeing him and waved. "I found him!" he informed as if it hadn't been obvious.

Law narrowed ROOM to the boy and scanned him, but he didn't see anything abnormal. He deactivated the Ope Ope no Mi and nodded. "It seems he's fine," he said.

"I told you he would be fine. He's my son," Luffy answered in a tone of obviousness.

Maybe it really was so, Law thought. Monkey D. Luffy and Boa Hancock couldn't possibly have produced normal humans, their offspring were probably some monsters... and it was dread to think what kind of adults they would grow into. Maybe he'd really exaggerated, he concluded. Then again, over last thirteen years he'd been seeing only _ordinary_ children.

The five-year-old kid was giving him an intent and somehow distrustful look. He had dark-blue eyes and black hair, although now only a few strands were sticking from under his hat. Law noticed that the boy was dressed suitably to the weather, and had a rucksack on his back, as if he'd left for an adventure.

"Faran, look who's visited us. Uncle Torao!" the ruler of Raftel said, pointing at Law.

"I don't know him," the boy replied at once, turning his head away.

"You see, Torao?" Luffy called reproachingly. "You come so rarely that my kids don't even remember you!"

Law said nothing. The truth was he hadn't visited the Pirate King's family for ages, even though he'd been present during Hancock's every delivery. The words 'don't remember' was quite an understatement, for the reality was closer to what Faran had said: the younger kids _didn't know_ him at all.

"Um... Did he say why he went to the forest?" he asked as they walked towards the palace, occasionally glancing at the boy, who was holding Luffy's hand like a good kid.

"He wanted to have a look at the bear in the den," Luffy replied, laughing. "He decided it would be easier during the hibernation."

It didn't really surprise Law that the son of Straw Hat could come up with such an idea. "But why in the morning?"

"The bear's den is in the mountains, so I had to leave early," the boy spoke, casting him a furtive look. "Everyone knows that you should go out in the mountains early," he added with an illumination that Law accepted without as much as a wince.

"You see that smart guy?" Luffy wouldn't stop laughing. "He dressed properly and even packaged provisions."

Law decided that Luffy's kids must have inherited intelligence from their mother, fortunately.

"But, Faran. Why didn't you leave any message?" Luffy asked. "Mom was worrying about you. Or even better, why didn't you take me with you?" he added with reproach. "I'd like to have a look at the bear, too."

"You were sleeping!" the boy blurted.

"True, hahaha!" Luffy laughed so hard that he almost lost his hat. "But you will take me the next time, okay? We'll prepare for that trip, and I'll certainly wake up in time! We'll ask mom to prepare us the supplies. Oh, I can hardly wait! Maybe... maybe we can go tomorrow? What do you think?" he called zealously, looking at his son.

The boy only nodded before pulling his head in the collar of his jacket, but Law managed to see his smile. The vision of going out into mountains with his father must have appealed to him, even though he wasn't going to show his happiness in the same excited manner.

They passed the gate. Up close, the palace made an overwhelming impression with its numerous floors and plentiful ornaments that seemed to tower over the man just like the mountains nearby. The road led them to the main door, which Luffy opened wide and inhaled deeply. "HANCOOOOOK! I FOUND HIM!" he shouted.

Law decided it was a miracle that his ear drums didn't explode. Faran, still holding his father's hand, winced visibly, although Law wasn't sure whether it was due to the sound or the content of that shout.

It didn't take even five seconds before the Pirate Queen rushed into the hall, clicking her heels and waving her hair like a mythical gorgon, and swept her son in her arms. "My little Faran!" she called, embracing him tenderly. "Are you all right? Where have you been? Why didn't you leave mommy a note? Mommy was worrying, and everyone was looking for you, and we couldn't find you...! It's good that you're back!"

For a moment, the boy didn't know how to react to that outburst of motherly affection... or maybe he was just waiting for the rest. The next moment, Hancock put him down on the floor and glared at him from her height of almost two metres. In the dark-blue dress clinging to her perfect figure she was imposing, just like always. "As a punishment you don't eat today," she said in an authoritative voice of a queen. "I hope it will cure you of worrying your parents, young man."

The boy pressed his lips in a thin line and nodded, accepting his punishment like a man... and unlike his father, who gave a loud groan. "Hancock... A whole day without food?! It's too harsh..." he called beggingly. "Nothing serious happened. He only wanted to have a look at the bear!"

His venerable wife whom many still considered the most beautiful woman in the world, looked at Faran, who was standing with his head down, and her eyes filled with concern. "At the bear?" she asked. "Is that true, my son?"

"It's in hibernation, so I thought I could observe him quietly," the boy muttered. "I left early to be back in time."

"I can see that you dressed properly, too," Hancock admitted.

"I even packed a lunch," Faran added, glancing at her with hope.

The Pirate Queen slowly nodded in recognition to his preparation.

"Hancock, have mercy..." Luffy entreated her. "Hancock, please... Hancock...!"

Law saw that Hancock experienced increasing difficulties in focusing on the situation when Luffy, probably unaware of his influence, kept shooting her with his begging. Every time the Pirate King spoke her name, the blush on her cheeks deepened and the gaze in her eyes turned softer. "In that case... You're not eating a dinner," she decided, and her voice was no longer as harsh as before. "You may eat your packed lunch, t-though," she added, stuttering lightly.

Faran nodded. "I apologise," he said in a serious voice.

Hancock stroke his hair affectionately. "I'm not angry."

"We're lucky," Luffy declared, than brightened and called in appreciation, "That's my Hancock!" No longer able to contain her happiness, she pressed both hands to her cheeks and turned away embarrassed.

Law wondered if he really should be here... but, on the other hand, he'd seen that scene so many times that he considered it to be a natural part of the scenery. In any case, it seemed that the woman once called the Pirate Empress was still infatuated with Luffy like a girl. Law would lie if he said he wasn't relieved.

"Faran, you go change," Luffy asked. When the boy followed his request, he said to his wife enthusiastically, "Hancock, look who visited us! Torao! I told you he would come! I told you, didn't I? And he really came!"

Hancock turned to them again and looked at Law as if she'd noticed him only now. The gaze in her dark-blue eyes, so dreamy just a moment ago, was hard again, but Law knew that well, too. Boa Hancock had never given up on that particular animosity towards men, excluding only Luffy and her five sons. Of course, she could be kind to those males who deserved it - Law knew he belonged to that group - but she more often showed them that proud and dignified face of a ruler. She'd always ruled over someone: once over her tribe on Amazon Lily and the crew of the Kuja Pirates, along with the hearts of most of the men and some women in the world, now over Raftel by Luffy's side. Although she was in her mid-forties already and had delivered seven children, her body was still graceful and curvy, and her hip-length hair were pure black. Beauty of her face was still breath-taking and couldn't be described in any words. Her bearing and her gestures were those of a queen, and everything about her made her an image of an ideal woman; many would give their lives for her single glance.

"Trafalgar Law," she said with her head up, but something akin to a gracious smile appeared on her lips. "Luffy did mention you would come."

"Actually, I was going to the New Piece," he muttered, "so-"

"My husband's guests are my guests," Hancock continued, ignoring him altogether and instead waving in an elegant gesture towards the stairs leading inside the palace. For some reason, everything she said sounded like an order. "Welcome."

Next to him, Luffy grinned widely and patted him at the back. Law suppressed a sigh. It seemed he had no choice than follow the queen of Raftel. He comforted himself with the thought that in the evening, at the latest, he would return home and wouldn't have to go out for the whole next month.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Fortunately, the interior of the Pirate King's palace wasn't such an artistic (or crazy) chaos like the outside, and it didn't result from the fact that one could see only a part of it at a time, not all of the building. Apparently, Hancock had had more to say about the decor than Luffy, and Law was grateful for that; his eyes could finally rest. The walls were painted in pale colours, the ornaments weren't overwhelming, and the furniture seemed to fit the rooms quite nicely. As for those rooms, Law had no idea how many were in the palace, and he doubted anyone knew. He didn't feel like thinking about the effort needed to keep this place clean...

Luffy, a person usually kind and often agreeable, had surprised everyone when he'd refused to keep any servants in his palace. Of course, he hadn't explained his stance, he'd only said flatly 'I don't want it!' and had left it to the others to wonder about his reasoning. He probably didn't like the idea that someone might serve him, even though it would be perfectly normal for a _king_. Hancock had had no intention to argue with him; without belittling her, the former Pirate Empress did almost everything like her lord ordered. Later, Luffy had consented to at least hire a cook (a one recommended by Sanji, of course), when it'd become clear that Hancock couldn't do everything herself around the growing family. As for the cleaning, it was the task of the automats that Franky had constructed; a whole army of them stayed in the palace, although they mostly worked by night, to a great disappointment of Luffy, who was always excited by technical inventions of any kind.

Well, there was more of them in the palace, like the whole system of lifts, passages and shortcuts making it possible to swiftly move between the floors and the wings. (Actually, it was quite a maze, and at least one person used to get lost every time). Taking into consideration that Luffy didn't plan to resign from his rubber moving abilities, the place didn't lack the high halls with the balconies and railings easy to grab, or the shafts to quickly jump down, either.

"Torao, are you hungry?" Luffy asked in the lift; he didn't wait for the answer, though, only went on, "I'd like to eat something, Hancock..." he turned to his wife. "You're going to cook something special for me and Torao, right?!"

"O-of course, Luffy," she replied with another charming blush and, when the lift stopped, rushed out first to vanish in the corridor the next second. They could hear her calling the children to help her in the kitchen.

They were on the top floor that, as much as Law remembered, the family of the Pirate King used normally. It had the children rooms, the living rooms, and the royal bathroom, but also a magnificent library, a training hall, a fully equipped kitchen, and a luxurious bathroom. Of course, the bathrooms and the kitchens could be found on every floor, along with other service spaces, which made every level an entity and providing the guests with perfect comfort.

"I forgot this building was so big," Law muttered as they walked to the main living room. "Even bigger than my hospital..."

"True, I keep getting lost here!" Luffy replied enthusiastically. "But thanks to that, I discover something new every time."

"I guess it's fine as long as you can find your way back... What about Zoro?"

"Hmm..." Luffy wondered. "His record is a month, I think. And it's only because Sanji could no longer stand it and went to find him."

"Well, it's not like Zoro needs a maze..."

"Right!" Luffy called, laughing.

"Actually, what do you do with all those rooms?"

"Nothing. I mean, they are for the guests."

Law almost winced at such a waste of space. "Isn't it a shame that they are empty all the time?"

"Nah, they aren't," Luffy objected, waving his hand vigorously. "We often have guests, and usually a lot of them at once. People rarely come to Raftel alone, more often in groups. Once, all gu-... all gir-... ah, Sanji's okama friends from Momoiro came. The other time the whole tribe of Chopper's friends from Torino. When the girls from Amazon Lily come, they occupy almost all floors, and it's great!" he said cheerfully.

"Would you agree to borrow us those guest rooms if we organised a word medical congress on Raftel?" Law asked on a spur of the moment. He was of the opinion that such things should be dealt with at once, and since he already was here, he could as well ask.

"Sure!" Luffy replied immediately. "It will be fun, that's the most important. And what is it? World medical crackers? Sounds delicious."

"Congress," Law muttered. "A gathering of doctors from all over the world."

"Great! All doctors will come?"

"No, only some of them..."

"Great!" Luffy repeated, and his eyes were shining.

"I only wanted to ask, it's nothing certain," Law informed. "We thought of it only this morning, and-"

Luffy jovially patted him on the back. "Torao, you should feel on Raftel like home. Do what you want. The most important is to have fun. World medical crackers is a very good idea! Of course the guests can stay here! You didn't need to ask!" he called almost reproachingly.

Law said nothing. Luffy's kindness had long since ceased frightening him, but it could still confuse him. He probably would never become accustomed to the fact that such selfless and unreservedly loyal people existed in his world. He probably would never stop fearing the day that Straw Hat's good will could be taken advantage of, leading to his harm... even though it was the common sense that nothing of that kind should happen since Monkey D. Luffy was the strongest man in the world.

The main living room was filled with light and perfectly empty, save for the old snake Salome, curled up and sleeping in a warm spot by the window. The couches and armchairs were sprinkled with toys, open books and other objects of the children playing and learning, but the children themselves were nowhere to be seen. Apparently, they were helping Hancock in the kitchen indeed, although Law found it difficult to reconcile those two things: 'Luffy's offspring' and 'good kids'.

"It's a mess here," Luffy said awkwardly, as if he'd just realised Law was a guest; the word 'mess' probably didn't register in his dictionary, and it surely didn't make him confused.

"Don't worry about it," Law muttered and sat down on the nearest armchair, first taking the colouring book about the West Blue fish from it. "I think it's very clean for the place where seven kids live..."

Luffy sat down on the couch. "Hancock taught them to take care of their surroundings," he said. "Except for the youngest, everyone must clean their rooms and clean up after themselves, too." Law stared at him in disbelief, but Luffy continued, "They also have chores in the kitchen, and care for the younger siblings, so that they could one day care fully of themselves. Moreover, Hancock regularly gives them lessons; she says that they must know the world they live in, and how to behave. They sometimes complain they'd rather go to school, but they listen to her anyway."

Law thought that it made sense. If the bringing-up had been left to Luffy, the kids would surely grow up to be the savages. But... they were still _Luffy's_ children. Could Law really imagine Ace peeling the potatoes now...? "I think she must use her Conqueror's Haki..." he shared his scepticism.

Luffy grinned and shrugged. "Rather, she suggested she would cancel today's lesson if they helped her," he said. "She's fair and never too harsh. She demands a lot, but never _too_ much. They have a lot of free time, and she doesn't restrict them much, she often even encourages them to action. And she feeds them," he added in a voice as if that was the most important argument.

"Sounds like a great mother," Law commented half-jokingly.

Luffy beamed even more. "But she is a great mother, and the kids admire her. And she teaches them to respect and care about each another."

"And what do _you_ teach them?" Law asked without planning it.

"The same. And that life is an adventure."

The heels clicked in the corridor, and the next moment the object of their conversation, Boa Hancock appeared in the door, this time holding the youngest son in her arms. She cast the two of them a reproving look. "I should have known... Where's the snack?" she called.

Law hunched in his armchair. "Um... I didn't bring any..." he uttered.

Hancock, however, didn't pay him any attention. "Luffy! Why didn't you serve the cookies and the drinks? They are in the left cabinet."

The Pirate King cringed on the couch. "It's already empty..."

"Then, in the right cabinet."

"It's empty, too..."

"Then, in the cupboard."

"No chance..."

"Hmm..." Hancock looked around the room, searching for yet another place that the snack could be hidden in. "Behind the Grand Line painting," he said triumphantly.

"Oh!" Luffy leapt to the picture and tried to look behind it. Upon succeeding, he found a niche with a bowl of cookies and a bottle. He brought all that onto the table and took out the cups.

"I'm going back to the kitchen. You take Boi," Hancock handed Luffy the boy. Then she turned and said with a smile, "Here is Faran, too. Others will come once they're finished. I'm sure it won't be long." And then she was off.

Silence filled the room as the four men of different ages were staring at one another. The awkward moment was interrupted by Salome, who rose from her bedding by the window, yawned noiselessly and gracefully followed her mistress to the kitchen, where the nice smell was already coming from.

"Have some cookies, Torao," Luffy said, sitting on the couch with his youngest son.

"I want, too!" Boi called, waving his hands towards the bowl with a snake-pattern.

"Then take as much as you want," Luffy replied, putting him on the floor.

The three-year-old grabbed a few cookies and shoved them all into his mouth. Faran sat down at the egde of an armchair, staring at his little brother with some jealousy.

"Faran, you're not eating?" Luffy asked.

"I can't," the five-year-old muttered.

"Of course you can. Mom said you won't be eating the dinner only," Luffy reminded; whenever the food was in question, he had a great memory.

Faran beamed in his own spare manner and reached for a cookie. Law shifted his eyes between the two brothers, who, for all their resemblance, were clearly different. Boi was a spitting image of his father; he had the same ruffled black hair, black eyes and round cheeks. Faran's hair, although dark, too - all Luffy and Hancock's kids were black-haired and dark-eyed - seemed smoother, and his eyes were of the same deep-blue shade that his mother's.

Luffy opened the bottle and poured its content, apparently a juice, to the cups. "Cheers!" he called.

Boi was enthusiastically digging in the cookies, putting the handfuls in his mouth, just like Luffy, who laughed at the sight of his youngest son. Faran was eating with a greater dose of elegance, occasionally exchanging glances with Law, who politely took one cookie from the bowl.

"Torao, say something," Luffy asked.

Law drank some juice and shook his head. He didn't feel comfortable around the small kids. He had cold sweat at the thought that soon there would be more of them: all seven clones of Straw Hat Luffy. "Rather, you should tell about your last voyage. You were in the South Blue, right...?"

Luffy brightened and opened his mouth; however, even before he started his tale, Boi suddenly burst out crying and hid in his father's arms.

Law felt alarmed at once. "What happened to him?" he asked Luffy, ready to activate the Ope Ope no Mi any moment.

"Boi, what's wrong?" the Pirate King asked, frowning and rocking the boy on his lap. "There's still plenty of cookies, you can have more..."

Law thought that Luffy would always relate other people's sadness to lack of food, in the first place. Moron. Boi stopped crying, turned his head to Law and cast him a frightened look before pressing his face into his father's chest again and sobbing once more. "I'm afraid your youngest son isn't very fond of me," Law said, rolling his eyes.

"Boi, it's Uncle Torao!" Luffy called with a mixture of reproof and anxiety. "There's nothing to be afraid."

"He's been here all the time," Faran slipped with an overly calm. "You were so busy with the cookies that you didn't even notice him. Only now you are scared of him?"

Boi's head snapped up when he glared at his big brother. "I'm not scared!" he called bellicosely and wiped his face vigorously. "I'm not scared!"

Luffy burst out laughing. "That's because you hardly ever laugh, Torao!"

"I think that if I smiled now, I would scare your other son, too," Law retorted. "So forgive me not trying."

"That's not true," Faran replied with resentment. "I'm five already!"

"True, true...!" Luffy called, still laughing.

"I'm not scared!" Boi repeated and got down... only to climb on Law's lap the very next moment.

Law froze, looking at that three-year-old creature that had made himself comfortable upon him and was boldly looking back at him. Boi's cheeks were flushed, and his dark eyes were shooting sparks.

"All right," Law said slowly. "You're not scared."

The boy folded his arms and nodded with dignity. Faran cast him a glance of the reluctant recognition before taking another cookie.

"Then, I'm going to tell you about my recent adventures on the South Blue! Listen..."

Luffy plunged into a tale about his last voyage, but it mostly consisted of digressions. Law tried to fish up the main plot of the story, but it proved to be too difficult, for regardless of his questions the Pirate King kept jumping from one adventure to another, from one place to another, from one Sea King to another, and all that was enriched with repeated gusts of laughter and displays of other emotions... The narration sounded like a madman's tale, and Law thought that probably only Clione and his kind would be able to find a sensible content in it. Finally, he gave up and just listened to it; actually, he couldn't focus on the tale with the three-year-old kid sitting on his lap and absorbing him fully.

Boi wasn't really doing anything, he was just sitting peacefully, which Law found very suspicious. In his opinion, three-year-old kids shouldn't stay peacefully, except for their mother's arms. He was ready to catch the boy in case he moved suddenly and fell down. He fought the urge to activate the Ope Ope no Mi, which would give him full control over the room if he wished so, but it would be an exaggeration. He told himself that the thirty-nine year old man should really be able to handle a single kid. It didn't change the fact that he stayed alert, even if Boi seemed to be preoccupied with his father's tale, so much that he sometimes laughed loudly and clapped his hands.

It didn't take long before someone else slipped into the room, and almost noiselessly: three older boys, so much alike that they could be mistaken for twins or even triplets. Of course, when they were standing next to each other, their height difference was obvious, for they'd been born with a one year interval each; moreover, the twelve-year-old Ace had an air of the eldest child - of the firstborn son - around him that Zeno and Senti lacked. All three had ruffled hair and equally intense eyes, and it could be seen at the first sight that they were very close to each other. It made sense because after Senti's birth Hancock had taken a three-year break and when she'd decided to become mother again, she'd delivered the twin daughters. There was a big gap between the three older and two younger brothers, so it was nothing strange that the trio held together. Law suspected that Zeno and Senti were quite mature for their age, for they probably did their best to match Ace in everything.

"You were helping mom in the kitchen, right?" Luffy said noticing the boys. "Good job."

Ace glanced at his father and nodded, but then his eyes returned to Law again.

"Hello," Law greeted them, willing to avoid another awkward situation.

Ace averted his eyes, slightly embarrassed. Ah, Law guessed, his mother must have repeatedly teach him that he should greet his elder first... "Hello," the twelve year-old muttered, and the other two followed.

"Come closer," Luffy encouraged them. "There's still some... um... juice left," he informed, looking at the empty bowl. "You remember Uncle Torao, don't you?"

"I do," Zeno replied without moving from the spot.

"Me too..." Senti added, standing with the brothers.

"Trafalgar Law," Ace said, looking at Law again. "You're not a frequent guest here," he added ironically, given that a twelve-year-old kid knew how to use irony.

Law's thought flew to the time when he'd been that age himself, and he almost winced. Yeah, they _definitely_ knew...

"Ace! Uncle Torao has a lot of work," Luffy reproached him. "You now he's a hospital director. And he did come today."

"In other words, you ask us to believe it's better late than never, right, dad?" Ace said in the same voice... but then he shrugged and came closer. "So be it. It's obvious he's already made himself home," he decided, pointing at Boi, still sitting on Law's lap, and his lips twitched in a smile.

Zeno and Senti sniggered, following him. Before another faux pas happened, one that would undoubtedly earn them a scold from their mother, the light steps could be heard in the corridor, and the next moment the last children of the Pirate King and Queen ran into the room, seven-year-old Laelya and Catleya. It seemed that everything turned lighter, such was the impression their agile moves, cheerful voices and fluttering hair made, but it was all Law could think of, for the girls didn't come to stop only jumped on his armchair and kissed him on both cheeks, laughing loudly.

Boi stared at that with his mouth open. Faran dropped the last cookie. Ace, Zeno and Senti seemed speechless. Luffy bugged his eyes, too.

Laelya and Catleya gave Law a hearty hug, then jumped on the floor and joined their hands. They started to dance, singing, "Uncle Torao! Uncle Torao!" Then they came up to his armchair again and fixed their dark-blue eyes in him, equally ecstatic. Boi made a strategic retreat onto his father's lap, which he must have considered the safer place in this situation, and Law felt somewhat exposed.

"That was a... Garchu-like greeting?" he asked in a weak voice, but was answered only by a pearly laughter.

"Right, the girls always say they will be your wives," Luffy remembered.

"Do we practice polygamy on Raftel?" Law asked, wondering if he should consider that scene absurd or the contrary.

"Dad is the king of Raftel, he can decide that," Laelya said, never taking her eyes off Law.

"Dad can decide that, he's the king of Raftel," Catleya repeated.

"Torao, do you really want to marry my daughters?!" Luffy asked in astonishment and somewhat frightened.

Law looked at him reprovingly. "There's a limit to joking," he grunted, and then something urged him to say, "Why should I have a father-in-law younger than me?"

Luffy burst out laughing, and Law stared at the twins again. "You wouldn't like to have a husband that is seven years older than your dad," he said with a wry smile.

Laelya and Catleya shook their heads, but they were still regarding him with stars in their eyes. Law suppressed a sigh. The only daughters of Luffy were probably the loveliest children he'd ever seen. It made sense since their mother was Boa Hancock, the most beautiful woman in the world. They both had small faces, great eyes with the long lashes and sweetly shaped lips, just like her. They looked like the perfect clones of the Pirate Empress - Law couldn't but think of parthenogenesis again - and were different only in one detail: Catleya's black hair was wavy, while Laelya's was falling onto her back straight like a mountain waterfall, similar to her mother.

Law put both hands on their heads. "You should find yourselves someone of your age," he said in a serious voice, looking at them separately. "I don't... I don't intend to get married."

"That's what I kept telling Hancock, and see what happened," Luffy complained. "Not that it's bad... Hancock! Is the meal ready?!" he called in the direction of the kitchen.

The heels clicked, and the Pirate Queen appeared in the door again. She didn't look like someone in the middle of preparing a dinner for a seven-member family and a guest. She looked like... hmm... well, like a queen. "It's in the oven," she said, casting Luffy a timid look.

"Is it true that dad didn't want to marry you?" Senti blurted.

"He's just said it," Zeno backed him, and Ace nodded.

Dead silence fell in the room; even Laelya and Catleya stopped laughing. Their eyes wide open, they turned their heads to look at their mother. Law followed their gaze, feeling a terror running down his spine. Luffy, Boi and Faran froze, and for a moment the room seemed a painting of a skilful artist who'd perfectly depicted the emotions of the seven people rooted in astonishment and horror, and the eighth one who was the master of that scene. Only Salome kept swaying in a soothing manner over Hancock's shoulder, although only someone who'd known the great snake of the former empress of Amazon Lily could tell that.

"Senti...! Zeno...!" Luffy groaned, finding his voice. "It was long ago..."

Hancock looked at her sons number 2 and 3, then placed her hands on her hips and raised her chin. "That's what he claimed," she answered loftily, piercing her husband with her gaze. "But I always get what I want."

"I said I've no reason to complain!" Luffy called defensively. "I don't complain about anything, Hancock! I feel great... we all feel great, right? Right?!" He looked around, seeking his offspring's support.

Law wondered if those two really should have such conversations in the children's presence... but Ace's snigger made him realise that the kids must have witnessed such confrontations before, and treated them as a normal family routine. Atmosphere in the room became lively again, as if a conflict had been thwarted - or maybe there had been no real danger at all? Luffy and Hancock's kids probably attached greater importance to the gestures than the words, and considered it obvious that their parents cared about each other as well as about them. No-one had any reason to feel unloved or unwanted here.

"Then, dad, say that you wouldn't change mom for any woman," Catleya prompted.

"You wouldn't change mom for any woman, say that, dad," Laelya repeated.

Luffy waved his arms frantically. "Of course I wouldn't change!" he called quickly. "Hancock! I wouldn't change you for any woman!" he declared. "Your cooking is great!" he added, which, in Law's opinion, weakened the general impression of his statement.

Boa Hancock, however, must have find that answer sufficient. She pressed her both hands to her cheek and turned around to hide her blush. Law refrained from shaking his head. Again, he came to the conclusion that love was a very strange phenomenon - and, apparently, it meant something different for everyone. Luffy probably needed only someone to feed him - after all, they said that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach - for Law didn't believe that the Pirate King might consider those things from any deeper viewpoints. On her part, Hancock, once a ruler of an all-female tribe, had never thought of love and family, and yet she couldn't resist the hurricane of feelings Monkey D. Luffy had stirred in her. Her love - love of that woman who'd had the whole world under her feet and had ruthlessly ruled over the men's hearts while she couldn't care less about them - had appeared to be a completely selfless loyalty and devotion, and concern, and unreserved urge to help. It was beyond doubt that someone like Boa Hancock could love only once, and once it had happened, nothing could stop her from realising her love... even though Luffy was thinking mostly in terms of eating, but she accepted that, too. It was a truly peculiar relationship, but Law knew better than rationalising the feelings. What mattered was that people were happy, and the two of them certainly were.

He took the whole group in one look. Ace was smiling to himself, while Zeno and Senti were giggling. Laelya and Catleya were laughing merrily. Faran, in a stoic manner, was eating the cookie he'd picked up from the floor, and Boi was looking around with an obvious need to eat some more. There was he whole family of the Pirate King, and himself, too, Monkey D. Luffy, who was afraid of only one thing in the world: solitude. How happy he must be here, surrounded by people who would always be a part of him.

Law felt strangely out of place... but he had no time to think of that sensation. Hancock disappeared again to prepare the dining-room, but the kids were free now and could stay with the guest they were clearly curious of. Ace gave his brothers short instructions, and soon the scattered toys and books vanished from the coaches and armchairs, and another jug of juice was brought from the kitchen along with a snack for Luffy. Laelya and Catleya adjusted the tablecloths, and even Faran got up to brush off the crunches from his armchair. Everything happened like in a well-oiled machine, with everyone knowing what to do and how, and what was their duty. There was no scrambles, quarrels or shouting, there was no complaining or attempts to wriggle out of work. Law was observing that completely amazed, for it didn't match what he thought of the children, especially in that particular family... In the end, he came to the cautious conclusion that, if that kept up, he would have to change his opinion about Straw Hat's kids, who really seemed _self-disciplined._

Once everyone had made themselves comfortable - the older boys on the couch, the girls on Law's both sides, and Salome had curled again in her sunny spot by the window - the shower of questions fell on Law, and he decided inwardly his joy had been premature. The situation was, however, quickly managed by Ace, whom one word was enough to silence the rest. His authority was beyond question, and his younger siblings seemed to admire him and listened to him without reservation.

"Trafalgar Law," said Luffy's firstborn in the same voice as before, fixing his dark eyes on the guest. "Once, you used to sail with our father, you even helped him claim the One Piece and become the Pirate King. Whenever dad mentions you, he always stresses that you were one of the most powerful people he's even met... If it's true, why didn't you try to get the One Piece and the title of the Pirate King yourself?" he asked.

"Ace, that was rude! Torao has always been my friend!" Luffy called indignantly.

"That's no answer," Ace replied, never taking his eyes off Law.

"No?" Luffy wondered.

Law smiled wryly. "Even if I were one of the most powerful pirates of my time, I was no match for your father," he said the obvious thing. "Besides... I never took any interest in the One Piece or becoming the king."

"Then, why did you come to Raftel?" another question came.

"Perhaps because I am... his friend," Law muttered.

Ace blinked.

"See?" Luffy said with satisfaction.

"Even if he were the strongest man in the world, he would've never managed on his own," Law continued with a sneer. "Someone wise had to see to everything."

"Hahaha, true!" Luffy burst out laughing, but then he winced. "Hey, that wasn't nice, Torao!"

The kids giggled.

"Why did you stay on Raftel?" Zeno asked.

"Why didn't you sail on?" Senti added.

"On? On to where?" Luffy scratched his head.

Law ignored him. "Raftel is a good place," he said. "I spent long time on sea, but I never intended to do it all my life. Once I accomplished what I wanted as a pirate, I could move on to my next... dream that was to open a hospital."

"Hospital? Why?" Faran asked.

"To create a place for you to be born, for starters," Law replied.

"Torao is the best doctor in the world. He can cure any disease!" Luffy slipped enthusiastically.

"I want to cure people, too!" Laelya called.

"Me too!" Catleya added.

"If you come to work in the Corazon Memorial Hospital, you won't have far from home," Law muttered and then, before the next questions came, he took initiative. "What about you? What are you going to do when you grow up?" he asked the older boys.

"We want to sail the seas!" Zeno and Senti replied in unison, and Ace nodded.

"We'll become the sea warriors," Zeno qualified.

"We're going to sail all around the world," Senti added.

"I sail already," Ace announced somewhat proudly.

"I would like to go to school in Roger Bay," Faran interjected. "And then to university. I want to become a scholar."

His older brothers stared at him for a longer while, like he'd been some kind of alien, but then, much to Law's surprise, they nodded reluctantly.

"It would be great to go to Roger Bay," Zeno admitted.

"But is a school great...?" Senti asked and looked at his father.

"Hmm... No idea, I never went to any," Luffy said, rubbing his chin, but then he brightened. "But I'm sure it's great! Besides, you're smarter than I, so you're going to enjoy it!"

"Mom doesn't let us go," Zeno said moodily.

"She says she can teach us everything," Senti added.

"Hmm... School isn't just about learning," Law pointed out. "You're old enough. You'd only benefit from meeting other kids of your age, and other people, too. It's not good that you only stay here in the mountains and hardly ever visit the town..."

"Is that what you think, Trafalgar Law?" Hancock's voice came from the door.

Law looked up at her, aware of the hopeful glances coming from the three pairs of eyes. It wasn't really his business, but since he was being asked... And it certainly wasn't that he wanted to score some points with the new generation of those crazy creatures.

"I think it would be good for Ace, Zeno and Senti to attend the school in Roger Bay, especially if they want it themselves," he said. "Even if you can teach them more than the school teachers, to say nothing of your splendid library that they apparently use to their hearts' content, I'm sure that the contact with new people would broaden their horizons and contribute to their overall development. They're old enough, they don't need to stay with their family all the time," he added, trying not to think about his daily life when in the same age. "School won't hurt them."

The Pirate Queen looked at her three eldest sons. "You would have to get up early, for the school starts at eight, and it's many kilometres to Roger Bay," she pointed out. "Well, we could probably arrange some transport..." She mused.

"But we could come back on feet, it would be a good training," Zeno said eagerly after three seconds of silence.

"We will get up early every day, I promise!" Senti backed him.

Ace only nodded, but his eyes were shining with enthusiasm.

Hancock fixed her gaze on her children again. "We'll talk about it after the meal," she declared flatly, and the boys nodded. They knew they could trust her promises, as they could trust her reasoning. She didn't use to refuse saying 'just because'. "Now I want to see you all in the kitchen, for dinner is ready, and we have to serve it."

Ace, Zeno and Senti jumped up to their feet. "Roger, mom!"

"And the rest of you, come to the dining-room, please..."

* * *

Law didn't even notice when he'd spent the whole day in Luffy's place. Between the meals, conversations, games and little emergencies, he forgot to count the hours. Luffy's seven kids were as engaging as possible, but mostly because of their brilliance that had completely surprised him. He should've grown accustomed to the fact that there were many strange things in the world, but he still felt confused by the fact that Straw Hat's children were so intelligent. Except for the youngest one, all could already read and apparently made a good use of the library, for their knowledge was much beyond the average level for their age group and exceeded what Hancock could teach them. However, excluding perhaps only Faran, they weren't any bookworms; they were as eager to play and, the eldest three boys, train. And they talked, too, they talked so much, and it wasn't a nonsense twitter one could expect of the kids, only a serious debate on many different topics. It was really a discussion, not a quarrel, for they could fervently argument their differing opinions. What it was Straw Hat had said? That Hancock taught her kids to respect themselves and each other; that much could be easily seen.

Law kept having that peculiar impression that they just couldn't be Luffy's kids, but such reasoning was completely futile. That was because the children had the same fire and vigour that the Pirate King, the same urge to experience adventure and the need to go past their limits. They were confident, fearless and determined to take everything life could offer them, but those traits were disciplined, emphasised by common sense and intelligence they'd inherited from their mother. Those seven were combinations of their parents' best features, and each of them promised to become someone exceptional in the future. They only needed to find path they wanted to follow, and to discover their talents to prove themselves... and the world would sooner or later bow down to them.

For now, however, they were still kids, and even the greatest brilliance couldn't protect them from juvenile stunts... or maybe it even provoked it, together with their wanting to know or simply good will, for it was beyond doubt that all seven were kind and considerate. Ace insisted on helping to cut the roast - he really was skilled with a knife - and he almost got his finger cut off. Zeno wanted to bring the meal for Hancock, moving the dishes almost as big as himself to the dining room, and he poured hot sauce on himself. Senti went out on the roof through the window in his room to observe the snow birds that had made a nest there, and he nearly got his hands frozen to the gutter, for he'd forgotten about the gloves. Faran fell down from the ladder in the library when trying to get the interesting book from the highest shelf. The twins decided to bake some cookies for Law, and they burned their fingers when hastily grabbing the hot baking tray.

Hancock tended to all injuries before Law managed to activate the Ope Ope no Mi. 'We don't need the Devil Fruit for this,' she said in a decisive voice, suggesting that the children would only benefit from knowing that their actions could have the unpleasant results, too. She infallibly believed that their sons and daughters could learn from their mistakes, and she was probably right.

Law didn't notice the evening until the darkness fell and the lamps were turned on. By then, has was already the best pal of Ace, who'd wanted to know about his sailing experience. He also earned the respect of Zeno an Senti after telling them about his abilities. He even gained Faran and Boi's trust, and he completely failed at discouraging the twins, not that he'd tried to. He talked and discussed, answered the questions and made comments, and listened, too. When the day was nearing its end, he no longer felt as a guest; he'd been accepted to the family like... well, _Uncle_ Torao.

The parting wasn't easy, but he suspected that _everyone_ was given such a goodbye here; the reason was probably Luffy's manner of showing the other person his affection as if they were the most important people in the world. Laelya and Catleya showered him with teary kisses, handing him the package of cookies, and Boi didn't want to leave his lap and objected doing it with a loud cry. Faran announced he would know all fish species from the North Blue by the next time they met, while Zeno and Senti expressed their wish to hear more stories about his adventures. Ace said nothing, but his eyes were revealing respect and understanding. In the end, Law had to promise he would come again soon, which, much to his surprise, wasn't as hard as he'd assumed.

As he walked down - Franky's round lamps were illuminating the road with a soft light - he tried to feel bad about that... but couldn't. Then, he decided to use the argument that Luffy and Hancock's kids had turned to be much more sensible he'd thought them to, and that was why spending time with them hadn't been a torment... Yes, that was the only reason why he'd managed to stay there all day and even promised to visit again. He'd expected he would leave there exhausted and wrecked, with his nerves shot to pieces, his senses abused, and his dignity damaged. That he would be bombarded by noise, and his psychical comfort would be subjected to irreparable violation. That he would have enough of kids for the rest of his life and would never, ever go to that place that seemed the gate of hell, even if he needed to barricade himself in his office. Yet, as he ran down towards Roger Bay, he felt light at heart and pleasant. He couldn't stop remembering the conversation, laughter and joy filling the last few hours. And he couldn't banish the impression that it had been a _good day_ and that he, Trafalgar D. Water Law, had enjoyed it.

Only when the bright building of the Corazon Memorial Hospital appeared before his eyes, Law was surprised to realise he'd been so busy he hadn't spared his work a single moment. He ironically thought that Bepo would be ecstatic hearing that... and prepared for a spell of remorse. That, however, didn't come; he was still filled with that warmth taken from Straw Hat's household. He smiled wryly to himself... and, in order to finish that day of laziness properly, he decided he would take a relaxing bath. A bubble bath.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

The next day, Law threw himself into work. He waked up filled with guilt for having wasted a whole day; no matter how others might legitimate his holiday, he himself considered it improper. Well, he _was_ a workaholic, so it figured... He didn't really reproach himself for having gone to Luffy's place - the visit in the Pirate King Palace had appeared to be much more pleasant he could've ever expected, and the impression the family of Straw Hat had made on him was good in every meaning - but for having spent so long on something else than work; that fact was gnawing at his conscience and crushing his self-worth. That was why the next morning he ordered himself even greater work rate; he'd already planned more surgeries for that day, anyway.

It was pretty difficult for anyone else to understand how Trafalgar Law could find some more time for work in his already tight schedule, and, to be frank, it occasionally amazed him, too. On the other hand, he knew well that in crisis or under pressure a man could go over his limits in every possible aspect. He'd gone through quite a few of such situations in his life, and even if someone else - someone leading more normal existence - might consider it a tragedy, he himself was grateful for them, for he'd managed to evolve and, hopefully, still evolved. Became stronger. Polished his skills and acquired new ones. It didn't sit well with him to stay in one place. He'd wanted to learn and expand his knowledge as a kid already. Later, because of the life he'd been forced to live, he'd found it necessary to gather information and gain new abilities; it was the only way he could reach his goals and fulfil his plans. If now, as a doctor, he could still cross the boundaries, it was only a desirable thing.

He had yet to reach the stage of wondering what price he would have to pay one day, although he was already aware that it wasn't possible that he developed infinitely; somewhere there was the wall he wouldn't be able to breach. He knew at least that much that he couldn't work over his normal capacity day in day out; however, such exertion wouldn't harm him if it happened episodically, so he didn't think twice about making his schedule for the next day. The most difficult thing was telling himself it was just this once and resisting the temptation of making the change permanent.

The next few days passed in a pleasant hospital routine. Law felt the best amongst the medical cases, new and well known diseases. He tried not to think that as soon as February he would have to survive another whole day without working, but the vision kept haunting him. As it filled him with increasing reluctance, he finally decided to analyse it. At first he thought it was just the fact of going on a holiday, which he considered one of the least desirable things in his life, and prompting him to feel guilty, on top of it. Then, however, he realised that the unpleasant sensation was caused rather by the previous day off, and meeting with Straw Hat. Well, this he could explained too: it was Law's policy to see the Pirate King as seldom as possible, for the man didn't use to affect his well-organised life in a favourable manner... It could be that over the years he'd worked out an emotional pattern to instinctively react to Luffy... Yet, the sensation wouldn't leave, even though more and more time had passed; to the contrary, it only seemed to intensify, weighing on him and depressing.

As time passed, the positive impression that meeting with Straw Hat's exceptional family had left, turned into something diametrically different, more and more unpleasant. Now it seemed strange to him; after all, he'd prepared for the worst, and yet he'd had a nice surprise. He'd expected that spending time with Luffy and Hancock's kids would be a torture, and in fact he'd had fun. He'd viewed the situation through the prism of his ideas about kids in general, and yet the offspring of the Pirate King and Queen had appeared to be seven very distinct and extraordinary personalities that had smashed the stereotype existing in his head to smithereens. But why it was _this_ fact that filled him with bitterness? He didn't like it, especially that the longer he racked his brains about that riddle, the more convinced he became that it could be about something he'd never expected himself of: more or less conscious _envy_ of Straw Hat Luffy.

It was completely unacceptable, both for general and particular reasons. Trafalgar Law didn't consider himself as someone to envy anyone anything, and if it was Monkey D. Luffy in question, then it seemed even more absurd than repulsive. But if it was really that... if he really felt some jealousy in the worst case and longing in the best one... or sense of defeat and being the worse... then it was the reason to be mad at himself, first and foremost.

It wasn't even about _feeling_ that way. After all, he was just a human being, even though slightly modified anatomy and physiology-wise, and life itself had robbed him of many things that most people considered natural and naturally got or were given. No, what made him angry was the fact he'd thought he'd already been through that, had dealt with that enough times... and yet that matter had once again returned to him, and in time he'd expected it the least. Confrontation with Luffy's happy family simply hurt and reminded him that destiny could be very unfair.

On the other hand... Could he really blame destiny for that? Was family something that just happened to a man... or was it rather something he should actively try and get? The truth was he'd never taken a single step in that direction. He'd focused on his work, moving everything else to the side as less important or insignificant. Luffy had done nothing wrong, so why should Law blame him for his family bliss? Even though it could be said that to him the family _really_ happened by accident, the Pirate King did care about his close ones and was part of their life. And Law? Even if, by some miracle, he got a wife and the kids, he would probably see them once in a blue moon and wouldn't be present at all in their daily life, for he would focus solely on medicine. Some voice in his head told him he shouldn't be so sure since he'd never tried, but he silenced it with realisation he'd rather _not try._ He couldn't imagine himself as a good husband or a father; quite the contrary, he was certain he would make his family unhappy, so it was a much better choice to be alone. He didn't want to make others unhappy, if only he could prevent that. Prevention was always better than cure.

After a few days of such a rational argumentation, the unpleasant feeling eased off and no longer disturbed his mind. Nevertheless, he decided he wouldn't get near the Pirate King Palace anymore. It'd been easy so far. There was plenty places on Raftel he could spend that particular day of month when he was forbidden to as much as showing his face in his own hospital...

Slowly, January was nearing its end. Winter continued and, much to Law's displeasure, took a turn for the worse... or, at least, spring was nowhere near. The weather grew terrible; it became very windy and thus very cold, even though the real temperature wasn't that low. The sea was rough. Water kept hitting the wave breakers so violently it could be heard even inside the hospital, despite the soundproof windows, and the panes were shaking in the frames. As the situation continued, the atmosphere amongst the personnel became more and more tensed; the people were nervous. Shachi and Penguin got into a serious argument and stopped talking to each other for the whole two days, Ikkaku was emanating a silent message it was better to stay away from her, and Clione seemed extremely weary and upset; with such extreme weather conditions, his ward was probably more of a madhouse than normally. Besides... It was likely that, just like Law, everyone was unconsciously awaiting the worst: a great storm that, this time of year, might cause a terrible catastrophe with many causalities. The sea traffic had been limited, and the ships would push out only by a favourable forecast - or, rather, the least unfavourable - but even that didn't guarantee a safety.

Because of that, Law had less admissions and less work now. However, he just couldn't sit on his ass and do nothing, so he busied himself with work on the wards, curing the 'normal' patients whose conditions didn't require the Ope Ope no Mi surgeries. He just had to occupy his mind - also to drive away the thought that some people in need wouldn't be able to reach the hospital in time - and it could only benefit others. Later, the patients told that during the storm of the century they'd been given the best treatment in the history of the Corazon Memorial Hospital.

The storm wouldn't subside, and it only kept picking up. One could be under the impression it would never pass, rumbling over their heads until the end of the world and threatening to annihilate all who dared to expose themselves to it. The element was attacking the wave breakers and violently slashing the windows with freezing rain. Or maybe it was the end of the world already, an apocalypse and doom to everything still alive? It seemed that even if they survived, even if the good weather returned again, nothing would ever be the same and everything would be changed forever.

Law didn't even suspect that, through that violent storm, just as violent change would happen in his life, one he couldn't imagine even in the wildest dreams, had he seen them. Later, whenever he thought about it, he would smile wryly and come to the conclusion that of course it couldn't happen in any _normal_ circumstances.

The bad weather went on, but people would rather not to talk about it, and Law wasn't an exception, just as if discussing the topic might bring a calamity. Well, men of the sea had always been superstitious, while not so few on the staff had had quite a long pirate career before. Law wasn't superstitious nor did he consider himself as a pessimist, but he knew that if something was bound to happen, then it would undoubtedly happen, so talking about it a priori was pointless. Still, he caught himself thinking that as the hospital director he'd rather have it happen today than tomorrow; he'd like that the mood in the hospital turned to the better as soon as possible and that his workers weren't so discouraged. And that everything were back at normal.

However, it didn't seem likely yet. Yet another morning greeted Law with the roar of the sea; he'd already grown accustomed to it, as to the trembling of the window panes. Paradoxically, the choice for fish in the canteen was the greatest, for the storm would drive the fish that normally didn't appear near the island, into the inshore nets.

"I guess I have to give up on the congress this year," Bepo said during breakfast. "With the weather like this, I can't go anywhere."

Law looked at him over his coffee mug. "When does it start?" he asked.

"The tenth."

"It's still almost two weeks from now," Law noticed. "I'm sure it'll let up by then. I can't imagine this continue so long..."

"But I first have to get there, too..." Bepo reminded. "This year it takes place on..." he said the name of the island on the far end of the world.

Law mused, drinking his coffee. "You could take one boat and get outside the storm, then board a normal ship. This dreadful weather _must_ end somewhere."

"Thanks for the offer," the mink replied, "but I don't think it's a good idea to deplete the hospital's transport means. Besides, I probably wouldn't be able to focus on the congress, knowing you might need me here. I'd rather stay, just in case..."

"Bepo, no-one is indispensible," Law said before he held his tongue. "No, I take it back," he supplied at once.

Bepo looked at him askance. "Right, apart you no-one indeed," he muttered in response.

"That's not what I meant," Law replied edgily. "I meant that every doctor has the right to take a leave and don't mind his work."

"It's not convincing, coming from you..."

"Damn you, Bepo! If anything _happened_, sure I'd like you to be here...! But I don't want you to give up on your plans only because something _may_ happen," Law explained what he really felt. "If the worst comes to the worst, we'll just have to manage. We will manage," he added with emphasis.

Bepo mumbled something unintelligible under his breath but didn't seem angry. They ate in silence. The gusts of wind smashing against the panes didn't grow any weaker, and there was a clear draught from the windows, despite the professional proofing. Well, it wasn't a ship, just a building, so it was allowed. Law comforted himself with the thought that such a storm was really something extreme, so statistically it shouldn't recur until some dozen of years later. Of course, statistics had nothing to do with the nature, he realised the next moment, staring at the roaring darkness outside.

"Let's see how the situation develops," Bepo said in the end, putting his mug down on the table. "If the weather changes for better in the next two days, I'll go."

Law nodded and got up. It was time to start working, and he welcomed it with relief. When using the Ope Ope no Mi for treatment, he virtually lost touch with the world. He didn't need to see the grey scenery outside, making the sun seem just a distant memory. He didn't need to hear the bang of the waves and the wind hitting the windowpanes. He ceased being aware of the element altogether, for he cut himself off anything but his patient. He hoped his personnel could do it without the Devil Fruit, too. It wasn't right that he was the only person in the world finding comfort in work in this stressful situation.

The morning surgeries went without any disturbance or complications. Even if the patients were more uneasy than usually, the Ope Ope no Mi soothed their nerves at least during the treatment. Law knew that once they waked up from the anaesthesia, knowledge they were cured would make them forget about the weather. At least them... On his way to the lift, he tried to comfort himself with the fact that the staff members didn't need to go outside, and the building protected them from the physical aspects of the storm. Himself, he was especially privileged, living here.

The moment he thought that, entering the lift, he came upon a picture of misery, and it took him a few seconds to recognise Clione. Upon seeing him, the head of psychiatry sighed. "I didn't want you to see me like this," he said half-jokingly. "Not you."

Law was staring at him in silence, trying to reconcile Clione's appearance with his normal image. The psychiatrist had his hair wet and tangled, his make-up was but a sad memory, and instead of an elegant dress he was wearing a plain scrub that suited him more or less like women's clothes suited most guys. It was obvious that the head of the Seven had had a close encounter with the external conditions.

"What happened to you?" Law finally asked, although he should've asked, 'Why did you go out?'

Clione sighed again. "Our patient escaped from the ward. She was lurking by the door. When the cleaner entered, she immediately ran out, almost trampling the poor woman. We caught her outside, she was half the way to the beach already..."

"And you just had to get after her, too?" Law asked in a surprised reproach.

"I happened to be near," the psychiatrist muttered, brushing the hair from his forehead. "Well, the most important is that we managed to catch and bring her back to the ward."

Law could figure the rest of the story himself. Clione probably had got soaked from head to toe, so he'd had to have his clothes washed or dried, and the only garb available in this situation was the hospital uniform every staff member could get in the laundry department in the basement.

"I bet you have quite a mayhem on your ward now..." he muttered with sympathy.

The psychiatrist smiled wryly. "Well, it will be really good if our mayhem is the worst thing here."

"Take care," Law said, when the lift stopped on the seventh floor and Clione got out.

This time the psychiatrist's smile was a bit warmer. "I'll manage, thanks..." he replied and then added in a flirtatious way that Law could never tell if it was serious or faked, "I promise to look decent the next time."

"Don't worry about it. Remember, in all those years I had more than plenty occasions to see you both in the guy's clothes and without them," Law retorted, noticing out of the corner of his eye that the nurse awaiting the lift down cast him a flustered look. He ignored that. What could she know about life in a submarine that had its own decency laws? "Believe me, you're not looking any worse now."

Clione snorted, apparently stifling a laughter, then waved him goodbye and headed for his office. He didn't seem as dejected as before, which gladdened Law. Dejected Clione wasn't a pleasant sight. Law realised that the head psychiatrist - just like Bepo and Ikkaku - was one of the supporting pillars of the Corazon Memorial Hospital... someone Law couldn't imagine this place without. Clione's presence and his composed personality, hidden behind an extremely expressive exterior, affected him in a positive manner.

By lunch, he mused over his companions, who'd been staying by his side for so long. He came to the conclusion that each of them could have an element attributed to them. Ikakku was like fire; she needed very little to flame up and explode, threatening to consume everything around. For those she cared about, however, she was someone they could warm by. She could show the road, illuminating it all at once. Clione, of course, was like water, with that serenity and composure of his, and ability to soothe all conflicts. He could flow around people, adjusting to them and learn to see their all sides. He could relentlessly wear away and patiently influence others to slowly realise his desire. Bepo... Bepo was like earth, rock, mountain - someone Law could always trust and rely on. Unmoved by others' whims, constant in his affection, and always supportive. So strong that fighting him was doomed to failure.

It seemed that Law was wind, able to move on a great speed between the places, travel between the sky and the earth, getting everywhere he wanted. He was unstoppable and could crush all obstacles on his path. He could destroy, but he could also help...

He winced. No wonder Clione's lunatics were raving mad in this weather if even he - a man whose sanity could be always relied on - started to fancy such things. Undoubtedly, the storm was disturbing his mind and filling it with strange ideas, there was no other explanation.

The atmosphere in the canteen resembled that from the previous days. Some were sitting in silence, glum and moody, busied only with their meals. Others were speaking with exaggerated cheerfulness, as if trying to drown out the roar of the gale and lift their spirits. Occasionally, Law could hear sharp voices of those whose patience and resilience had been depleted by the bad weather. He really hoped that prolonged storm to end soon.

But it didn't seem likely. Even if the wind sometimes appeared to die down, the very next minute it would attack the shore even more violently, beating against the walls and banging on the windows. There was no doubt it was the most intense storm Law had experienced on Raftel. He didn't fear about the hospital, for it was an extremely sturdy construction created by the greatest carpenter in the world: the man who'd built the Pirate King an unsinkable ship and was an artist at his job. Moreover, there were no big trees in the vicinity of the clinic, and the only things that the wind could carry with it were the wooden benches and the arbour in the park. However, Law realised that such a storm would do relevant damage in other places all over the island, this and the others. It seemed that the violent system was more or less moving over the surrounding waters, so it probably affected the Four islands, too. Law could only hope that their inhabitants knew the might of the ocean and didn't take the weather light, which should prevent fatalities, which was the most important.

He was about to head to the consultation session when Jean Bart contacted him. Well, it was the high time for something to happen, Law thought instinctively, preparing for the worst.

"We've just received the message from Vokzel," the head of the transport and communication section informed. "Their hospital was damaged, with the most serious problem being the failure of the generator. They have wounded amongst the staff, too. They're currently evacuating everyone and want to send us those patients they can't treat there."

"Send them? In this storm! Are they crazy?!"

"They decided those people had better chances than staying there."

"Better chances? For dying faster, perhaps," Law muttered in displeasure. "Wait for me, I'm on my way. ROOM."

After two seconds, he was standing in the dispatch office of the hospital.

"What answer should I give them?" Jean Bart asked, leaning over the control panel.

"Well, it's not like we can refuse them," Law decided. "But in my opinion it's a suicide. How many patients are in question?"

"A dozen or so. They plan to depart within half an hour."

Law suppressed a curse. "In any case, it's a challenge to death," he said after Jean Bart had conveyed his consent. "There's a risk those patients won't survive the journey, even if they come here safely."

"They probably want to take that risk, if there's any chance... if the chance of success is greater than zero."

Law shook his head. "It's going to be a lottery," he mumbled, although as a doctor he could understand what had prompted the personnel to such a dramatic decision. Well, there was no point in wondering about it now. "How long would it take?"

Amongst the Four Islands, Vokzel was the farthest from Raftel, although it wasn't particularly far.

"Around two hours, though, paradoxically, it can take faster. They'll have a tailwind."

"Send five ambulances to meet with them," Law ordered. "Just in case. Contact the port authorities in Roger Bay and request the aid in the possible rescue operation. They have some good ships that should stand even such weather. I expect that the medical records will be either brought in original or faxed here. Inform Bepo. And contact me if needed," he said in emphasis.

Jean Bart nodded. "Roger, boss," he replied and, wasting no time, started to execute the orders.

Law resisted the temptation to return on the eighth floor using ROOM. He had a nasty feeling that today he would be forced to use the Ope Ope no Mi in a more intensive way he'd assumed to, which meant he should preserve all energy. The lifts were a good invention in such situations. He went to the consultation session, although his insides were twisting at the thought of the risk taken by the personnel of the Vokzel hospital. Sending the critically ill patients to the sea during such an enormous storm... According to common sense, the chances all that affair would have a tragic end were much bigger than the probability of success.

Still, he knew that also miracles happened in the world, even though he didn't like to count on them. He'd done all he could; the rest was beyond his power. He forced himself to focus on his task, but it appeared that even such an easy thing like a medical consultation could be unnecessary problematic. One surgeon scolded a paediatrics resident, deciding she was presenting her case in a too long and too vast manner, and brought her to tears. He also snapped at the young psychiatrist who tried to remedy the situation, then folded his arms and ostentatiously turned to the wall. Two doctors from the obstetrics and gynaecology got into an argument and didn't shy from using the dirty language. Others were looking at those events with disgust, outrage and anxiety, although in fact everyone was trying to look anywhere else.

When the consultation turned into an open row, Law had to react. "Everything will be fine," he said, interrupting the two women who were currently calling one another the sea elephants.

All heads in the room turned towards him. Fatigue and guilt were reflected in some eyes, and some people blushed. The paediatrics resident tried to stop her sobbing. Even the surgeon seemed somewhat ashamed.

"Everything will be fine," Law repeated, although he'd never considered himself good at comforting or verbally motivating others. Yet, he was a director and a chief doctor here, which sometimes obliged him to more than just clinical work, even though he was under the impression his words sounded obviously unnatural. "The weather is giving us a hard time, but it's not us who really have it hard. We stay in a warm and safe hospital, and don't need to subject ourselves to the storm... Well, apart from some psychiatrists who must chase after their runaway patients," he said pointedly, bringing smile to two faces. "On top of that, we stay in a hospital with cure rate of one hundred percent, which is a dream of every doctor. There are many people that have it much worse now. Every storm ends, and the fine weather comes again. We've survived a lot so far, so we're going to survive this as well," he finished in a calm voice.

Some nodded. The surgeon cast him a reluctant look, and then rubbed his face with both hands. The psychiatrist gently patted the paediatrics resident on her shoulder, and she raised her chin up, wiped her tears and resolutely sniffed. The gynaecologists gazed at each other askance, then one of them stretched her hand and the other took it. To Law's eyes, all that seemed more theatrical it really was, but it was probably his nature that preferred to avoid showing his emotions, speaking. Nevertheless, the session continued in a much better atmosphere and no-one seemed to be bothered by the raving greyness outside the windows - or they were hiding it better than before - so his speech must have had the intended effect.

The consultations ended in just one hour, which was good; the doctors had just left when Jean Bart contacted Law again. "Will you drop by, boss?"

"On my way," Law repeated and the next moment was standing by the big man. "What's the situation?"

"It could have been better," Jean Bart reported outright in a glum voice. He knew he didn't have to mince his words when speaking to his superior. "The ship transporting the patients from Vokzel sank just a moment ago, but our ambulances and rescue services from Roger Bay managed to save almost everyone. They are on their way here already. Those with milder injuries will be bring by the ship. However, many are in critical conditions, so I dispatched three ambulances more. I think they'll be here in half an hour, maybe a bit later. I should get the more detailed information any moment, their number and condition."

"Good," Law commented, although it wasn't really good. "Send the last two boats as well. What about the medical records of the patients?"

"One nurse has them with her."

"I'm going to the emergency unit. Forward all communicates there."

"I've already done so."

Law nodded, clenching his teeth and then also his fists in the pockets of his white coat. He tried to focus on positives: there was less fatalities it could have been in this situation, but, like always, he felt bad, knowing someone died so close to Raftel. Moreover, there was no telling if all injured would arrive in the hospital in time...

The emergency department was on alert. Bepo was giving the instructions to the paramedics in the ambulances, his voice calm and firm. In the palpable tension the minutes seemed the hours, but Law realised the atmosphere here was completely different from what had been surrounding him for last few days. There was no bleak dejection and irritability, only sharp concentration and will to action. And even though there was nothing to be happy about, Law felt relieved. Just as he'd expected, something had happened to finally remedy that terrible condition the Corazon Memorial Hospital had suffered from for nearly a week. He also knew that, once he plunged into saving the lives, he would be filled with that extreme pleasant state of stimulation pushing aside all negative sensations.

The ambulances began to arrive in the hospital harbour. Law activated the Ope Ope no Mi and moved all patients to the operating theatres. The paramedics had already reported the most important things about the patients - their main illness and their current condition - so the personnel had the initial plan ready. The most basic procedures - resuscitation, suctioning the water from the lungs, and haemostasis - had been done in the ambulances. Now, all patients were put on the oxygen, and those who required it, received the blood transfusion. Those who didn't have any external injuries, were covered with heating blankets.

A young woman entered the room at a brisk pace. "My name is Ida," she introduced herself. "I work in the Vokzel Hospital, and I came with the patients. My two colleagues will arrive with the next transport. Who is in charge here?" she asked matter-of-factly, looking around.

"I'm Trafalgar Law," Law replied from his place by the examination table with a patient lying on it.

"Doctor Law, of course," the woman approached him, bowing her head lightly. Then she looked at the unconscious man, her eyes stopping at the plastic wristband. "This is Mr Lopez, fifty-one years old. He's been hospitalised because of myocarditis. Before that he was healthy except for hypertension," she said and turned to the woman on the next table. "This is Mrs Hashi, sixty-five years old. She was admitted this morning with infection-induced pulmonary oedema. She suffers from chronic heart failure." She looked at Law again.

"Please, keep talking."

The nurse gave a quick report about every of the seven patients that were currently in the unit. She didn't make any mistakes nor omitted any important details, and she answered Law's questions concisely, occasionally relying on the medical charts she'd transported under her blouse and the belt of her trousers. She hadn't cared about people around her, only casually had taken the papers out of her clothes, flashing with naked flesh and explaining, 'I needed my both hands, so it was the only way to bring those with me.' Despite her tangled, damp hair and crumpled, wet clothes, she'd made a very good impression on the staff, including Law.

The patients were a heterogeneous group in respect to their age and condition. All were on the verge of hypothermia. One patient had died in transit. Four were in critical condition due to exacerbation of their main illness. When the ship had started to sink, they'd been probably unconscious but under the care of the nurses, so they'd been quickly shifted to the ambulances, and all of them had been wearing the life vests.

Using the Ope Ope no Mi, Law stimulated their life functions - one patient got into a cardiac arrest on the operating table, but a direct heart massage together with a solid dose of his own adrenaline helped to get him back - and stabilised them on a safe level. Then, they were put on monitors and moved to the intensive therapy. Two patients had been injured during the catastrophe: one had got crushed by something heavy and had multiple fractures, and the other had lost his leg, probably in similar circumstances. Law had to perform life-saving operations that went without complications.

Two ambulances Jean Bart had sent as the last, brought another patient from Vokzel: a young man who'd got pinned under a fallen tree two days prior, and a sailor with a serious head injury who required Law's immediate attention. Those two were stabilised, too, but more were coming. The other ambulances returned from the second ride, bringing new wounded, those who'd had to be left earlier. In such situations, Law always came to the conclusion he didn't envy the rescue chief who had to make quick decisions about who needed help and treatment first, which actually meant deciding about life and death. He knew that mistakes could never be avoided and there was nothing to do about.

In the second transport were three last patients from the Vokzel Hospital, a man from the rescue service of the port of Roger Bay, injured in the operation, and a few unknown persons.

"Those are people who decided to come with us from Vokzel when they learned about the ship to the Corazon Memorial Hospital," Ida explained. "They had only mild conditions, but they demanded to be taken aboard. Normally, the captain would have removed them from the ship, but this time we were in a hurry and had to depart as soon as possible."

Law clenched his teeth at such foolishness... but did he have any right to judge those who'd tried to seek help in crisis? He knew such circumstances often made people lose their sanity and risk more than usually to realise their will. "How many were there?" he asked.

"I'm not sure, we didn't manage to count them. Between fifteen and twenty. I remember some of them from the hospital, but they were on different wards, so I can't say much about their condition," the nurse added apologetically.

"Do I think right that from the medical point of view they were in no danger on Vokzel?"

"Yes," Ida replied in a low voice.

Law said no more only focused on treatment. Most of those people were in severe hypothermia - they'd been in water longer than those under the care of the nurses - and some had serious injuries. The two worst were a young woman in advance pregnancy and a seemingly ten-year old boy with multiple fractures of the vertebral column who, according to common sense, should have been dead. Law operated on them both simultaneously. The pregnant woman had come at the last minute, for the foetal heartbeat had almost stopped. They were saved both, the woman and the little girl, although Law suspected he would have to perform some additional surgeries in order to remove the negative effects the prolonged cold might have on the unborn organism.

The boy had the vertebral column in pieces from the cervical region to the coccyx, along with the injuries of the spinal cord; he also had multiple fractures in his whole skeleton and injuries of many organs, mostly due to the bone fragments penetrating the soft tissues. He seemed as if something very heavy had fallen on him. Hypothermia had probably save his life, for it had diminished the internal bleeding and reduced the brain damage. Also, he probably lived because, contrary to the rest of his body, he had very little head injuries, and his respiratory centre was intact. Law froze his vitals.

He quickly tended to the remaining wounded; fortunately they hadn't suffered any major complications. "Bepo, are they still any patients requiring the Ope Ope no Mi?" he asked.

"No," the mink said. "Those in the next transports are either conscious or stable. We'll take care of them."

Law nodded. "In that case, I'm going to put this kid together. It'll take a few hours."

"How are you feeling?" Bepo asked.

"I'm all right," Law assured him, glancing at the clock. It was almost five PM, and the rescue operation had started at two. "Let me know if you need me."

"Sure."

Law made sure that the patients he'd operated were stable, and then narrowed the field of action to a single operating table with the wounded child. The boy's organism was a horrible sight, but only from the inside; the external injuries were scarce, with all bruises and scrapes almost invisible in the general cyanosis due to hypothermia. Seen though the eyes of the Ope Ope no Mi, however, he seemed to consist solely from pathological process. The Devil Fruit a kind of marked all dysfunctioning fragments and parts of the body. The perception happened on an entirely different level than normal, sensory, but if it could be described with colours, then Law would say that the afflicted organs, tissues and cells flashed red. In this case, the patient appeared _all_ red, with only his head remaining 'invisible' in a scan.

Law had no idea where to start, but in the end he made a plan: first chest and abdomen, then the extremities, and then the vertebral column and the spinal cord. Systematically, one by one, he removed the fragments of sternum and ribs from the heart and the lungs, from the liver and the spleen, and then fragments of pelvis from the intestines. The kid's bones had been blown to bits; some pieces were not bigger than the tip of a nail. Once he'd managed to remove them all, he stared to repair the parenchyma and the ruptured blood vessels and nerves. Then he stimulated the healthy cells to grow in order to recreate the chest and the pelvis before covering them with the new muscles.

In a similar way, he tended to the patient's limbs - first upper, then the lower ones - before moving on to the spine. The reconstruction of that part was a great challenge, for every vertebra was different, and they had to fit one another in both shape and function. What helped Law in such situations was the genetic code that enabled him to recreate every anatomical element as it had been once organogenesis had been finished. Because some of the vertebrae had only simple fractures, he didn't have to create them all anew; it was enough that he connected the loose fragments and filled the loss with new bone mass. Others, however, especially in the lower cervical and upper thoracic regions, had been completely destroyed and had to be replaced. It was done by creating a tiny vertebra and then stimulating its growth so that it reached the size appropriate to the child's age.

It still didn't guarantee that the 'new' spine would be as good as the 'old', for the normal using of every organ caused its anatomical modification. After one year of wearing, no garment was the same as it had been at the beginning; the skeleton was like that, too, and in the case of a spine, that carried the whole weight and was vastly responsible for moving, the effect of living was even greater. In practice, it meant that Law might need to make some corrections once the patient regained his consciousness and started moving.

Before he began the reconstruction of the vertebral column, he removed all pieces of bone, even those microscopical, from the spinal cord. When the column was like new (or, in some parts, entirely new), he started to work on the cord. Paradoxically, recreating over two millions nerve fibres was much easier than building a backbone and, unlike it, happened almost automatically. The challenge was to properly connect the cells, so that the neurons from the motor cortex responsible for moving a hand would really move a hand, not some other part of the body. Fortunately, the spinal cord didn't undergo any particular modifications during life, it only grew, so once created, it should work just as it should.

After the patient's body was returned to the full anatomical norm, Law unfroze his vital functions. The heart started to beat, the blood flew in the vessels again, and the lungs filled with air. The temperature raised to the normal. The boy remained unconscious, just like all patients during the Ope Ope no Mi treatment, but his physiology seemed to work just fine. Law observed him for a while and made sure the patient's condition was stable. He ordered to put him on monitors and take to the postoperative ward.

He was about to deactivate the Ope Ope no Mi, but he suddenly remembered the last autumn and how he'd fainted after using his Devil Fruit intensively and for a prolonged time. He didn't want that Bepo panicked again, and thus he first searched for a place by the wall and only having sat down 'switched off' his power, unconsciously preparing for an unpleasant surprise. Fortunately, nothing of that kind happened, although he immediately felt terribly exhausted... He looked at the clock; it was almost eleven. Good time to go to bed, once he managed to reach his flat.

A quiet mumble was to be heard, and the next moment a head with dishevelled fair hair and sleepy blue green eyes appeared over his shoulder. He stared at the unfamiliar woman for a minute, before remembering she was that Ida from Vokzel. The nurse kept blinking in confusion, too, then her gaze flashed with understanding, and the woman jerked some half a meter back, almost falling down from her stool. "I'm sorry, Dr Law..!" she called in embarrassment, wiping her face. "I must've fallen asleep. I'm very sorry."

He shook his head, too tired to wonder why she'd reacted as if he'd been some wild beast. "It was a very hard day. You should've got some rest in the personnel quarters..."

"I wanted to look at your work, doctor."

"There was hardly anything to look at...?" he muttered. "Since you fell asleep."

Her cheeks turned red, and it was then that he realised he'd been rude.

"No, it's not what I meant, sorry... But it's true my operations aren't any sight, for everything happens inside the patient. So it's a good thing you got some sleep," he added and smiled.

Ida averted her eyes and rose. She smoothened her tousled hair she wore braided and then her crumpled coat, too. Law observed her in silence. He guessed she was around twenty-five. Her face without make-up was rather pleasant, and she seemed a nice person in general. Also, she appeared to be good at her work and apply herself to it.

"You helped us a lot," he said and got up, too. "I thank you on behalf of the whole staff."

She nodded.

"Oh, you're done?" Bepo's voice came from the door.

Law turned to him, noticing out of the corner of his eyes that the nurse went to the other door. "Yes. You?"

"Actually, we're done too," the mink said and yawned. "How are you?"

"As you see, I'm fine," Law replied, stretching his eyes to the sides. "But I want to sleep. You probably too."

"Mhm," Bepo muttered and yawned again, but then his gaze became sharp. "Did I see well that you were flirting with a nurse?"

Law cast him an astonished look. "I never expected to hear something like that from you," he responded. "It's not my habit to flirt with the nurses and-"

"It was a joke. I know you never flirt with anyone."

For some reason, that remark hurt. However, Law didn't let himself wonder about this emotion only patted Bepo on the shoulder. "Good job. How many people have we operated?"

"You sixteen, we seven plus some minor procedures."

"All people brought to us survived?"

"Apart from that one that died in transit, yes."

"A better result I expected," Law said dryly, aware his words sounded almost cruel. He headed for the corridor, and Bepo followed. "How many 'stowaways' died?"

"Three bodies were fished out, but there were probably a few more victims," the mink muttered. "Eleven came here, while the nurses told about twenty."

Law nodded and yawned. "Go to sleep," he suggested. "We have enough people on the night shift, right?"

"Yeah."

"Tell them to wake me up if anything happens."

Bepo nodded. "Good night," he said and made for his room in the far end of the corridor, while Law went to the lift. "Ah!" he called and turned to Law once more. "It's good I didn't go to that congress," he declared contentedly.

Law smiled wryly. "Good," he agreed. "But you can still make it."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

The next morning Law was greeted by a perfect silence. Actually, as he'd gone to sleep the last night, it'd seem to him that the storm had eased already, but such alterations in the weather had happened before, too, so he hadn't paid it any attention. Now, however, there was no option than to declare the end of the hurricane. It was a greatly anticipated change, although he bitterly thought it had happened one day too later, regarding the events on Vokzel, leading to the accident that had claimed several human lives.

That was, however, something he could do nothing about; he could only tend to those who'd survived. The previous day, after all ill and wounded had been transported to the hospital, he'd sent a group of volunteers to Vokzel to help in the crisis. The facility on the neighbouring island had been partly destroyed, the patients and the staff had had to evacuate, and some of them had been injured. At the same time, the staff of the Corazon Memorial Hospital had less work because there'd been no new admissions for days, so it was no problem to delegate some resources to the place they were more than needed. The group consisted of two surgeons, one anaesthesiologist, two internists and a few nurses, plus of course some people from psychiatry to provide the psychological support.

Law caught himself thinking it was strange to sit in the canteen and hear no wind. Apparently, a man quickly grew accustomed to new circumstances, even those unpleasant... In fact, it was one of the defence mechanisms aimed at preserving the strength and energy, so that they weren't wasted for futile frustration. Nonetheless, the change was welcomed and guaranteed that everything would be back at normal soon. The air traffic would be resumed, the new patients would arrive, and Bepo would be able to go for his congress. Before that, Law would have to learn about the scope of the destruction - he didn't doubt it was considerable - but then he would be able to look in the future again.

Drinking his coffee, Law involuntarily wondered if what had turned him into a monster long ago, when he'd been still a kid, wasn't the lack of future, precisely. He knew he was someone who always looked ahead and searched for solution, never got stuck, giving up to despair or hopelessness - but the condition for that was to have some _prospect_. When he'd been irrevocably sentenced to death, when he'd learned he'd had only a few years, then it'd been pointless making plans or trying to save himself. There'd been nothing to motivate him and push him forward; his life had been circled with a thick line he could see with his very eyes. Something like that was toxic for a kid, especially for the kid who'd already experienced the whole hatred of the world. How much love it had required to get him out of that state of being dead-alive... to turn him into a human again and restore his future that he could head for once more...

And so he'd done, never looking back at his past, for, unlike what awaited him, it was too painful. Even though he'd come to terms with it on a rational level, emotion-wise his childhood events had left deep wounds that still hadn't been compensated for. Then, it was better to focus on what would come than remembering the past wrongs. After nearly thirty years of practice, he'd already mastered such an attitude.

After breakfast, he went to check the patients from yesterday. Most of them was still in the intensive care unit, but only for observation. It seemed all were fine and would be transferred to other wards as soon as today. He still couldn't but feel amazed that the incident hadn't ended in a total tragedy, for there'd been all conditions for that. If he hadn't made that intuitive... no, _rational_ decision to send the ambulances to meet with the ship from Vokzel, all people aboard would be on the sea bed now. He really could congratulate himself on his far-sightedness that had saved over twenty persons. But he would have to thank the paramedics and rescue team members, too, for their actions had been without fault and had contributed at least as much to transporting all the ill and injured, save for one, just in time to the hospital.

He examined the last patient and was about to head for the surgery ward one floor up when, as he walked out to the corridor, he heard a silent cry of surprise and, it seemed, apprehension. A woman stood in the next door, that led to the nurse station, and he quickly recognised she was Ida.

"Ah, Dr Law," she said, clearly relieved. "You surprised me..."

"I didn't thought I look so scary," Law replied with a wry smile, "for someone else than the psychiatric patients."

An embarrassment flashed in the nurse's eyes, and she lowered her head. "I just... didn't expect you here, and so early, on top of it," she muttered. "It isn't even half past six, and you went to sleep so late, Doctor."

"Not any later than you," he replied. "I usually start working early. The staff had long since grown accustomed to seeing me before dawn."

She nodded and said nothing. As he observed her, he decided she was upset by something more than just running into him. She looked as if she'd just waked up, which only added to the general picture: her hair was dishevelled, she had a marked impression on her left cheek, and she was wearing normal clothes without a white coat.

"Everything's all right?" he asked without thinking and only that realised it certainly wasn't.

She looked at him in astonishment. "Yes... No..." She shrugged. "I don't know," she said somewhat hopelessly.

"Maybe you would accompany me for a coffee?" he offered and was surprised by his own words. Still, he felt reluctant about leaving her alone when she seemed to need some comfort. "Let's say... in half an hour? I have to go to the surgery ward first, but then I'll have a moment to spare."

She stared at him in silence before finally nodding, which filled him with relief.

"The canteen is on the top floor," he informed.

She nodded again. "I'll find it, thanks," she said and went back to the room she'd emerged from.

Half an hour later, when Law found her in the restaurant, she'd got cleaned up. Her fair hair had been combed and plaited in a thick braid, there were no marks of sleep on her face anymore, and she had a coat with the symbol of the Corazon Memorial Hospital over her clothes. Yet, she still seemed down, or even frightened. Her moves were wary and somewhat absent, and her face was pale. She had her blue green eyes wide open, and their gaze was empty. But she was here and now; her words indicated it.

"I don't find you scary, Doctor," she said, as they were sitting by the table with the coffee cups. The pale light of the morning was coming out from outside.

That surprised Law. He'd thrown that remark jokingly, but she'd taken it seriously, and he had no idea what to do with that. Instead, he focused on something else. "Stop with that 'Doctor'," he muttered. "Just call me by my name."

She nodded without looking at him and raised the cup to her mouth, keeping it in her both hands.

"You look unwell," he said outright, just like he used to. "Did you sleep anything?"

"I did," she answered. "The nurses on the intensive care unit were so kind to let me sleep on the coach in their station."

"You could've gone to the staff quarters. I don't think you were very comfortable on the coach... to say nothing of choosing the intensive care unit for the place of rest," he pointed out ironically.

"I wanted to stay with the patients," she explained. "Besides... I didn't want to be alone... and I had no strength to look for Mari and Kalla," she added in a lower voice, and then her light eyelashes fluttered in a quick blinking. She put the cup down and covered her eyes with one hand. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Law was observing her in silence. She was hunching in her chair, and her hands were trembling. He wondered what he should say to comfort here, but there were no magical words capable of making a person happy just like that. "It's obvious you're upset after what happened yesterday," he finally spoke. "It must've been a dramatic situation. But I must say you seemed very calm and composed when you appeared here. I was impressed by your actions. You really helped us a lot."

"I was on adrenaline," she replied in a low voice, still covering her face. He was glad she spoke. "That moment everything was all right already, I was safe... Besides, the patients needed treatment, so I had to focus on it." And once she'd begun, the words came easily. "It was later, in the night... I remembered the ship... like it started to tilt and gain water, and we couldn't use the lifeboats, for it would mean an instant death with waves like that, we had to stay on the sinking ship. We knew that the help had been sent for us from Raftel, our only option was to stay onboard and pray that they reached us before we sank, but it was only shipping more and more water. I thought it was over for me, that I would never see my family again. I was certain of that. So when the help came... it was like being miraculously saved. No wonder that upon arriving in the hospital I was filled with energy and feeling there's nothing impossible for me. But when I fell asleep, I returned to that ship again, feeling I was going to die any moment. Whet I ran at you, Doc-... When I ran into you, it was just after I waked up from that nightmare. I'm sorry for my abrupt reaction."

"There's nothing to apologise for," Law said. "It would be much stranger if you didn't feel anything, and more worrying. I would've sent you to our psychiatrists at once. Well, I can still send you if you feel so."

She shook her head. "No, I can handle it," she replied, although her voice was still not louder from a whisper.

"Everything is all right, you're safe," Law added, feeling it was important to assure her of that. "You see? Even the storm ended."

He didn't expect that, but she raised her head - he was glad there were no tears in her eyes - and looked outside. The vast of ocean, calm and perfectly quiet behind the soundproof windows, was spreading all the way to the horizon. The day started as cloudy, but compared to the previous week, it seemed beautiful.

"Personally, I'm of the opinion you deserve great respect... you and your colleagues, who accepted that task," Law kept talking. "It was a very... risky operation. To tell the truth, I'm still mad at your director for having come up with that idea, in the first place... I was certain you wouldn't even reach here," he said straight.

"But we did reach. And we managed to save almost everyone," she said, still staring at the sea.

He nodded. "Yeah, and that's the most important thing. You volunteered, right? No-one forced you to do it?"

"Yes."

"You like your work, don't you?"

She gave him a surprised look. "I like it a lot," she replied. She took her cup and drank some coffee. "Is it that obvious?" she asked, and when he nodded, her lips twitched as if she felt like smiling. Law felt truly relieved at that sight. "I work in the emergency unit, that's where I feel the best. I'm under the impression I can do the most for the patients, to help them the best way... Do you understand it, Doc- Law?"

"I do. Working with emergencies gives the greatest satisfaction," he agreed. "Usually, I deal with the chronically ill, but when I happen to tend to the emergency cases, I have that unique sensation of the perfect, purposeful focus. Of course, it's the best if there are no emergencies at all," he added.

"Sure, but if they do happen... You unreservedly engage yourself in the work," she supplied. "Everything else is switched off. There's only adrenaline and feeling you must act, _right now_, and there's not a moment to waste 'cause a human life depends on you. Sometimes it goes for many hours, but no-one notices it. It's only later that you realise you're dead on your feet. Do you think you can addict yourself to that sensation?" she asked.

"Oh, I'm sure of that," he admitted. "I think it's one of the reasons why there are so many workaholics in the health care system."

She nodded. The previous numbness finally had vanished from her eyes; now, her gaze was focused, lucid, and intense, just like yesterday when Law had seen her for the first time. Colours had returned to her face, and she seemed more vigorous.

She finished her coffee and put the cup down on the table. "I'm certain our director will thank you, but let me do it, too," she said, looking him in the eye. "You've granted us great aid, in every aspect. Really, I don't even know what words I should use to convey my gratitude... Above all, you saved our lives. If I can be of any help to you, then I'll be more than happy to assist you," she added with emphasis and conviction.

"Come on, that's why we're here," Law replied. "Every hospital exists to help others. You better tell me if _you_ are fine."

She nodded with zeal. "Now I really am. The nice nurses on your intensive therapy gave me a lot of aspirin before I went to sleep, so that I wouldn't catch any cold. And I didn't."

"Aspirin, the best medicine in the world," Law muttered. "Once, it saved my life, too."

She gave him an astonished look, but in the end she didn't comment that personal remark. "In any case, I'm all right. Only..." She looked towards the buffet. "I'm hungry."

"That's even better," he said with a crooked smile. "Enjoy your meal."

She went to get herself some breakfast and returned with a full plate. "Can we return to Vokzel today?" she asked, cutting her wiener. "No, I jumped too much forward... How can we return? By a ferry from Roger Bay? I guess they have already resumed the connections...?"

"If the storm didn't make any damage to the local fleet, there should be no problem. You want to go back already?"

"I don't know about the other girls. Actually, I should visit them," she added with guilt, putting down the fork. "But I think they, too, would like to return home as soon as possible. And I, though it may sound weird, I miss my work already... almost as much as I miss my fiancé. Going back to normality is the best cure after such a shock, right?"

"Definitely," Law agreed. "But you shouldn't overwork yourself."

"I know they need me there," she replied. "And I'm really fine. And in case I have any trouble sleeping... we have a psychiatrist, too. He's a bit odd person, but I'm sure he will give me some pills if I need them," she said confidently.

"They are usually odd," Law declared. "Speak of the devil... There. He's our head psychiatrist," he said, pointing at Clione, who'd just entered the canteen. "I don't believe yours is any odder than ours."

Ida followed his eyes and frowned. "He... Not 'she'...?" she asked hesitantly.

Law felt his lips twitch. "Hey, Clione...!" he called.

The chief psychiatrist of the Corazon Memorial Hospital turned his head and caught his eyes, then walked up to their table. Law noticed a surprised look his colleague cast at Ida before greeting her.

"I can see everything is okay now," Law said, eyeing the psychiatrist and his impeccable appearance up in an approving manner. He decided to say nothing about the fatigue on the man's face.

Clione pointed one finger at him. "Not a word about yesterday," he demanded in a decisive voice. "I told you I would look decent the next time we met."

"I didn't doubt it for a single moment," Law replied under his breath.

"Well, I hope so! Have a nice day," the psychiatrist said and went to the buffet.

Ida stared at Law with round eyes; she seemed properly confused. "Decent...?" she repeated quietly. "What happened yesterday?"

"Clione, somewhat involuntarily, came into a direct contact with the storm, and after that he looked... well, not like he normally does."

Ida looked over her shoulder. "A poor thing," she said sympathetically, and if Law hadn't already taken liking to her, it would, without doubt, happen now. "You were right about our psychiatrist, their levels don't even compare," she stated, picking up the fork again. "You know, I miss even him. I want to go back already. It's very nice here... and you took care of us, too, but... I need a familiar place. So if it's possible for me to return today, I'll be very grateful."

"We'll see to that."

Ida smiled weakly, but then he could see a shadow of guilt on her face. "Our patients can stay here, right?" she asked as if it'd occurred to her only now.

"Of course, they are in a good care," Law assured her. "You can send more if there's such a need. I bet it's going to take a while before your hospital is fully operational again. If you need any technical help or anything, Raftel would provide it," he said somewhat presumptively, for he wasn't someone to decide about such matters... but he knew perfectly well that the opinion of the director of the Corazon Memorial Hospital always counted.

Ida nodded and resumed eating - it seemed she had appetite - while Law contacted the head nurse of the emergency unit and requested that any help was provided for the nurses from Vokzel. He learned that Ida's two colleagues had slept in the staff quarters and were currently heading to the canteen. Ida ate in silence, listening to his talk, and when he looked at her again, he saw two tears rolling down her cheeks and falling onto her plate.

"I'm sorry... It's nothing," she said, wiping her eyes. "I just... You've been so good to us. Thank you. I feel like a miracle happened."

He could really understand her emotional lability after yesterday's shock. He knew the best cure would be what she already realised herself: return to normality. "Miracles do happen," he muttered in response.

She looked up at him, clearly surprised by his words... but then her light eyes focused on the scenery behind his back. "Look...!"

He turned around, following her gaze, and saw the pale sunlight over the grey waves.

"I haven't seen the sun in ages," she said, and her voice rang with sweet rapture.

He smiled wryly. "It may sounds strange, but me neither," he replied.

She laughed quietly, and that laughter convinced him she would be all right.

* * *

Ida and her colleagues left for Vokzel the same day, together with another group of volunteers for helping in the damaged hospital. Although the circumstances were tragic, Law felt content that such co-operation was possible. He suggested that Ida came for an exchange, that was to work for some period of time on Raftel, and asked her to pass that invitation to others. The Corazon Memorial Hospital had acted as an educational facility for years, teaching and training the personnel members for both local and faraway hospitals, but it didn't happen often that working medical professionals came here in order to raise their qualifications, while it would benefit everyone.

Law hoped he would meet Ida again; he'd really taken liking to her. Maybe the most important was that she treated him in a natural way, not like a miracle-doctor close to God. He realised he missed such an attitude. Now that his former crew members from the Heart Pirates behaved towards him with a pious respect - thanks all gods - but their relations had been formed by twenty years of shared history, and Law didn't believe anything to change about it. He didn't believe he needed it to change, either. And yet, for some reasons, when speaking with Ida, someone he'd met only the day before, he felt refreshingly relaxed and found it pleasant. He, who'd thought he wouldn't need any new friends and had long since stopped having the feeling he'd like to meet someone again.

Maybe that was why, a bit later that day, when Shachi, who completely lacked subtlety and discretion, said in an obvious need to tease him, "Boss, is it true you were flirting with a nurse from another hospital? Clione saw you in the canteen, admiring the sunrise together..." Law replied deadpan, "That's right. Unfortunately, she was taken."

The stupefaction on Shachi's face was worthy of remembrance. Penguin, who'd already begun informing them that the windows of the canteen were facing south, not east, stopped short and stared at Law with eyes like saucers, too. It lasted a longer while before his assistants recovered from the shock. Penguin laughed hesitantly, and Shachi dug Law in the ribs. "Come on, boss... Don't joke with us," he said reproachingly.

"The day you start flirting would mean the end of the world," Penguin muttered.

Law smacked the two of them in the heads. "You're two little cockroaches," he said in offence. "Do you take me for some kind of a beast...?"

They gaped at him again before exchanging looks. Penguin scratched his head in confusion, while Shachi supported his chin with his fist in an outraging parody of contemplation.

"Well, there was that fairy tale of the beauty and the beast, right...?" he suggested timidly.

Law shook his head and left. Still, he couldn't quite banish the thought the fairy tale was all he could hope for.

* * *

After the sea traffic had resumed, the patients started to arrive in the hospital by the truckloads. All those that had been en route to Raftel, forced by the storm to halt their journey and wait for the weather to stabilise, now came with those who travelled according to their appointed term. Law did what he could to process the suddenly increased amount of the ill people - his experience helped him greatly - and had no time for anything else. It was only from the talks in the canteen that he learned about the damages done by the hurricane, and those talks were very short, for he ate hurriedly and quickly returned to work. The only what he could see with his own eyes was the destruction of the considerable part of the coastline right behind the hospital; the waves had practically washed half the beach away. The building, however, didn't suffer any damage, just like Law had expected. He thought he would have to send Franky word of thanks for such a solid work.

With arrival of February, the weather changed drastically. It became sunny, calm, and very cold. In just three days, the temperature fell over twenty degrees, and the coastal waters froze. Bepo had left for the congress to return three weeks later, and Law hoped that the Corazon Memorial Hospital had used its stock of the red alert shifts... at least until the head of the emergency department was back on Raftel again.

Having that said, he had no time to think about such things, for his mind was occupied almost entirely by work. After the forced break, it was with pleasure that he threw himself into curing cancers, genetic disorders, poisonings and all other challenging conditions. Children, adults, elderly people. Men and women of different races. Everyone was different, and yet all were alike in that only the Ope Ope no Mi could help them recover or even guarantee that they survived. Working with emergencies was, like he'd told Ida, intoxicating, but it was curing the incurable and hopeless cases that made his existence purposeful. With every patient leaving the Corazon Memorial Hospital as a healthy man, Trafalgar Law felt some good was being sent out into the world.

It was the third day of the fine weather. The atmosphere in the hospital was good, although some grumbled about how freezing it was, of course. Law wished he could split himself in two or three, so many patients awaited his treatment, but he didn't complain. Today, he'd had to forgo lunch and was hastily eating the sandwiches in his office, simultaneously doing the paper work. After he ate, he would have the consultations, and then another admissions. It would do to air the room out... He opened a window, just a little, and then his eyes caught an element that didn't belong with the normal scenery.

He went onto the balcony, taking off his glasses and squinting. When it was minus twenty, the moist ocean air made him feel his skin is being peeled off his face, but he didn't pay it any attention, trying to understand what he was seeing. Against the white of ice biding the coast waters, a tiny figure contrasted. Law's heart beat faster when he understood it was a man moving over the uneven surface. As far as he could assess from so far, the person wasn't a fisherman nor a skating amateur. He or she was hunched, obviously freezing in this weather, yet stubbornly moving ahead.

Law frowned. From this height, he could see that the ice ended just a bit further up - but did that person know it, whoever they were? Even if it was some lover of winter in question, who would consider a walk in blistering cold to be pleasant, especially on such a sunny day, the fact was that just a few steps away a hellishly cold water opened, and the ice could break any moment... That person was in deadly danger, even if they only wanted to have a better look at the waves... which Law somehow doubted.

"ROOM. Shambles."

In two seconds, the failed floater found himself in Law's office, and with Law himself, who'd returned from the balcony and closed the door. The office was already nicely aired, but it didn't matter now. He was staring at the person he'd teleported, who, just like he should, was blinking in confusion, apparently clueless as to what had just happened to him. However, Law was at least partly as amazed by the sight before him.

There was standing a boy... judging from the pyjamas, a patient of the Corazon Memorial Hospital. The boy had only hospital slippers on his bare feet, and no other clothes. His ears and fingers were blue, and his face flushed. Law's first thought was that the boy was delirious, for no-one in his right mind would went out for the minus twenty degrees dressed so lightly. A grave disease or a surgery always presented a risk of an onset of a confusional state, in which an ill person experienced disturbed consciousness and could act like a lunatic, usually having no idea what they did.

He felt mad at the staff of the paediatric ward - or where the boy could be treated - for having not noticed anything. The tragedy had been very close... It was a miracle that Law had looked out the window when he had; the thought of what might have happened made him feel cold... probably as much as the kid himself. He needed to be warmed up and escorted back on the ward.

Law turned to take a blanket from the coach, but that moment the boy moaned, "Why... No...!" and he darted towards the balcony door, trying to open it.

Before he managed to, Law caught him by the arm. The boy jerked and cried out in pain, before turning his head to look at Law, whom that gaze shook to the very bone. In the boy's intensely blue eyes resentment was mixing with despair, but all that seemed to pale in comparison to the terrible emptiness. It wasn't a gaze of a madman, the kid was here and now with him, and yet it was beyond doubt that his mental state was far from good.

"Let me go!" he cried, grabbing Law's hand with his other hand. "Just... let me do it...!"

Law said nothing, mostly because he was speechless. He spent a moment trying to control that chaos of emotions that had filled him when it'd struck him what the boy had planned to do... and what he, himself, had known the second he'd seen him moving towards the edge of the ice. What should he do...?

He ordered himself calm. Never taking his eyes off the boy and never loosing his grip, he took a Baby Den Den Mushi from his coat and called Kaya. "I need you in my office right away. _Immediately._ And take someone from the Seven, Clione would be the best. I have a kid here, he'd just tried to commit suicide twice, and he seems like trying again," he said and hung up.

The boy froze and looked away, clenching his jaws. He no longer tried to wrench himself free, but Law kept holding him, nonetheless. His ears and fingers slowly started to regain their natural colour, but his face was pale, and a shiver ran through his body. He bit his trembling lips to suppress another moan, but then he said with his head down, "It hurts..."

"I'll let you go if you promise you won't do anything," Law suggested, although some part of him was amazed; he hadn't expected he could speak normally... However, he cautiously thought that if the kid was able to focus on pain, it bode well.

The boy nodded, and two tears ran down from his eyes. Law withdrew his hand, but once he did it, the boy's arm fell along his side limply, provoking another moan.

Law squinted... and then, in disbelief, activated the Ope Ope no Mi. It was hard to accept what he saw, but the truth was he'd just broken the kid's arm. How...? He hadn't squeezed it too much; he was well aware of his strength and knew how much he could use it on normal people...! And besides, how one could get his bone broken from a normal grip...?

Unless...

The next moment he was crouching before the boy to have a better look at his face, now covered by the tangled brown hair. He clenched his teeth. Yes, it was that kid he'd examined per Bepo's request the last autumn... the boy who'd constantly visited the hospital because of the recurrent and obscured fractures.

And the very same boy - Law realised a second later... and much too late - that he'd practically rebuilt most of the bones after they'd been smashed to pieces in the catastrophe of the ship, along with the rest of the organism.

Unexpectedly, he got angry... furious even, and he couldn't stop it, for it broke all barriers he used to control his emotions. It could be just a reaction to all that shock he'd felt... reaction to the situation he hadn't encountered in ages... reaction to fear that had filled him upon realising what might have happened, just under his nose, in his own hospital. This moment, however, he didn't wonder about the reasons of his wrath. If he'd wondered, such words would have never left his lips, for they were completely unfair and went against all medical ethics, to say nothing of his civility, but rage made him blind to any warning.

He rose and clenched his fists. "You foolish brat...!" he hissed, and the boy cowered as if he'd been hit, but Law cut himself off that image, too. "I spent several hours in order to put your skeleton together from those little pieces and to recreate your destroyed organs and tissues... building your spine anew along with some millions of nerves so that you could recover... And you do what...? Just try to waste the life I returned to you?! And where? Here? In this hospital that, for many, is the last hope for cure or even life? Have you no shame, you ungrateful brat...?!" now he was almost shouting. "There's no place for-"

"Law! Law, stop it!" a voice ringing with anger and terror interrupted that verbal assault. The next second Kaya ran to the boy and embraced him, followed by Clione, who stood between them two and Law.

In an abrupt move, Law turned to the window and folded his arms. His ears were ringing, he saw red spots spinning before his eyes, and his breathing was quick like after a sprint. He was still furious, still felt like yelling and swearing... but he also started to realise what he'd just done. He bit his lips and clenched his fingers on the fabric of his coat. Despite the suffocating feeling in his throat, he knew he'd said the truth, had said what he really thought... but he was aware he _shouldn't have_ said it. Yet, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so upset by a _patient_. His patients were ill, and then they recovered... not 'recovered to kill themselves'. Something like that wasn't acceptable, not in the Corazon Memorial Hospital...! His heart beat harder in his chest again, and it almost ached. How could he calm down... and move forward...?

"What's happened here?" Clione's calm voice broke through the humming in his eyes.

Law clenched his teeth and spoke only after a while, still staring at the scenery outside that he didn't really see. "I shamblesed the kid here from the ice after I'd seen him by pure accident from the window," he dawdled, although he felt like screaming. "There's no doubt he planned to drown himself in the sea, especially that right after that he tried to jump down from the balcony. I don't know what the hell is wr-"

"It will suffice, thank you," Clione interrupted him.

"Rosapelo has been on our ward after Law operated on him during the storm," Kaya spoke. "He'd been injured in the catastrophe of that ship from Vokzel." 'Injured? There was not a single intact organ in his body,' Law thought sarcastically, remembering the boy's condition on the operating table. "He was on his way here with his mother... and two days ago he learned she'd died when the ship had sunk."

"You should have watched him," Law snapped. "Or even transfer him to the Seven, on the locked ward..."

"Law, I really ask you to be quiet," the psychiatrist said flatly.

"Law is right," Kaya spoke in an apologetic voice. "I'm sorry, Rosapelo. We didn't know how much... We didn't know you were feeling so bad. But what you tried to do... Why-"

"I'll take care of him," Clione broke in. "I think you can return now, Kaya. I'll visit you later."

"But-..."

"Everything will be fine. We'll help him," the psychiatrist assured her. "We don't need Kaya any more, do we?" he asked Law.

Law shook his head, still turning his back to the room.

"Everything will be fine," Kaya repeated Clione's words, and then Law heard the sound of the door being closed, and the silence fell in the office.

Judging from the noises, the psychiatrist picked the blanket up from the floor and covered the boy with it. "I'm Clione, a doctor," he introduced himself. "We're going to see each other quite a lot over the next few days. Your name is Rosapelo, right?"

The boy kept silent... and Law, all of the sudden, remembered his words from a few months ago, so clear that he might have heard them only yesterday, damn his perfect memory, 'Rosapelo sounds like a girl'. However, it seemed that in a current state it was all the same to the boy how others addressed him.

"We'll go to my ward now," Clione spoke again, in the same warm voice. "It's just one floor down, we're going to use the lift. Law, you can escort us," he decided.

Law finally turned from the window and looked at the two, preparing for another attack of anger... but it didn't come, even though the cause of his fury from just a moment ago was still before him. The boy was standing with his head down and his eyes fixed on the carpet, unwilling to communicate, seemingly unable to move. Clione was slightly leaning over him, his smile gentle and sympathetic, but as the silence prolonged, he raised his eyes. "Law...?"

"We're going to do it differently," Law said, coming closer. The kid didn't react in any way; he seemed as if he'd lost his all will or even lost touch with his surroundings. It wasn't good, but at least he didn't make things harder. "ROOM."

He put the boy to sleep and placed him on the stretcher he'd shamblesed from the corridor the next second.

"His arm is broken," he muttered before Clione managed to say anything, and then cured the fracture. "Was," he informed, deactivating the Ope Ope no Mi, but he kept the boy in narcosis.

"You've broken his arm?" the psychiatrist asked in a neutral voice that, in his case, sounded very threatening.

"It's not that... That kid has very fragile bones," Law explained, automatically adjusting the blanket over the boy's body. "He was hospitalised here several times before, because of the odd fractures."

"Several times?" Clione's surprise was easy to understood; the Corazon Memorial Hospital wasn't a place that had regular customers.

Law nodded and took a deep breath. And then one more. He really didn't need to get even more depressed, realising that in this case he'd failed not only as a human being, but also as a doctor, since he had yet to discover the cause of those fractures.

"You can go, he won't wake up for some fifteen minutes," he informed the psychiatrist. "By then, you'll manage to put him in restraints, or what you want to do with him."

"You know what, Law?" Clione said, tilting his head and knitting his brows as he stared at him. "If I hadn't known you, I'd have thought you're a real bastard."

"I was once called the 'Surgeon of Death'," Law reminded, looking at some point over his shoulder.

The chief of the Seven shook his head in disapproval. "Why, on earth, did you react that-"

"Go already. It's a short narcosis," Law said, opening the door.

"I want to talk with you."

"I'm late for the consultations."

"Then later."

"I'm going to be busy until night. We have twice as much patients we normally have. I don't even know what time I'll go to bed tonight... if I will at all, in the first place."

"In that case... one day," Clione announced and left the office, pushing the stretcher in front of him. Yet, he stopped and looked back again, as if he'd remembered something. "This way or another... you've saved his life once more," he said, and there was familiar warmth in his eyes.

This moment, however, it couldn't soothe Law like it used to. He said nothing only closed the door after the psychiatrist. Then he rested his back against it and took several deep breaths... and when it didn't work, he activated the Ope Ope no Mi and directly calmed his organism, regulating the blood pressure and heart action. He felt as if a nicely cold wave flooded his body, regaining the familiar and so desired now sensation of composure.

He didn't want to think about what had happened. He couldn't. He mustn't. He had too much on his head and had to focus on working. He knew all that would return to him much faster he'd like to, along with all spectrum of emotions and conclusions, but he was determined to drive it back as long... as far in the future as possible. Clione could chase after him through all the hospital, but Law wasn't going to get caught and dragged for the psychoanalysis. And as long as he had the Ope Ope no Mi, he could remain calm, which he needed in order to work... because he needed the work for staying calm.

Once he knew he was ready, he left the office and ran to the consultation session.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

That night Law didn't even go to bed. He sensed with every fibre that if he closed his eyes, his thoughts and emotions would hit him full force and even the Ope Ope no Mi wouldn't be enough to control them; that was something he wanted to avoid at all cost. Fortunately, the hospital was bursting at the seams due to the greatly increased amount of patients - the staff had had to set up the camp beds in order to accommodate everyone - and the next ones were already waiting for their turn. The situation just couldn't be better for Law: he had the perfect excuse to pull an all-nighter. All parts were content, and for the patients it was really all the same if they were being treated by day or night since they were asleep anyway when Law performed the Ope Ope no Mi surgeries on them.

And so he worked all night and the next day, too. He realised, of course, he had to be cautious. He knew well that using his Devil Fruit for a longer period of time could have the unpleasant aftermath, so he was extra careful about deactivating the Ope Ope no Mi: whenever he did it, he would first assume the 'safe' position, which was sitting. If he lost consciousness, he could pretend he'd just sat down and dozed off after having been awake since the previous morning... Never again did he want to go through any faintings, and even less through everything they caused in his surroundings. He still considered it an absurd of the century that the media had made a sensation out of his brief indisposition... This time, however, nothing like that happened, maybe because there was no case that would require a prolonged use of the Fruit; the longest surgery took just over one hour, and the vast majority ended after some fifteen minutes.

He managed to almost entirely focus on work, and it was only occasionally that the events from the previous day tried to occupy his mind, but he didn't let them. He didn't allow himself a single free moment, devoting all time to the patients, and even during the hasty meals (he hadn't visited the canteen in the two days) he read the medical charts in his office. Somehow, he didn't even run into Clione, which meant he was super lucky, for normally the head of the psychiatry department would appear before him the moment Law needed him the least. Of course, he could avoid him actively with the use of Haki, but such measures seemed first ridiculous and second would require to focus of the person he wanted to avoid, while today Law desired to thing of anything but what concerned the yesterday's matter, and Clione by no means fell into that category.

In the evening, he was properly tired and fell asleep upon touching the pillow. The next day, however, he waked up in a foul mood and didn't know what had caused it. Unfortunately, he remembered that much too fast, and the morning shower only intensified his thought process. Even turning the hot water off didn't help; instead of sobering him, the cold stream added to his frustration. In the end, he gave up and decided to, during breakfast, quickly process all that had happened two days ago, hoping it would no longer harass him.

Such situations usually led to the conclusion that his naivety sometimes was way off the map.

Drinking coffee and staring at the darkness outside, he tried to calmly analyse that incident, but he felt angry right away and couldn't help it. He'd brought to his office a kid that had tried to drown himself in the freezing ocean. Then, accidentally, he'd broken his arm when preventing yet another suicide attempt. Lastly, he'd yelled at the boy and nearly told him to get out of his hospital. The last part was obviously the worst and made him feel like a scum.

Why had he reacted that way? Well, probably because the situation had caught him off guard. For over ten years, he hadn't met anyone who would tried to kill himself. The Corazon Memorial Hospital was a place of helping, performing the miracles and saving lives. Ten thousands of patients had left its walls, each of them healthy, strong and happy. (Maybe apart from those on the psychiatric ward, but he omitted that now). Trafalgar Law, the user of the Ope Ope no Mi and the greatest doctor in the world, used his abilities to cure and save. Every man that had gone through his hands, bore witness that the 'Surgeon of Death' had been buried in the past and would never be back. Every man that had gone through the hands of his co-workers, realised that life was greater than anything. Not a single patient would depart from Raftel without feeling grateful, for everyone had come here willing to live, but it wasn't gratitude that mattered to Law, only victory over death. If a person's life depended on him, he would never let them die.

And then, all of the sudden and unexpected, that reality of life celebrations had been disturbed by an element that didn't fit here: a man wanting to die so hard he tried to kill himself. It was as if a dark hole had appeared in a beautiful and bright scenery and domineered the sight. Of course Law had been surprised, having grown accustomed to the fact that people he met always wanted only to live. There was no place for death in the Corazon Memorial Hospital, it had no right to appear here - but that brought to his mind the words he'd said to the boy: that it wasn't a place for those who wished to die... and it led to an even more unpleasant conclusion that Law cared only about the perfect statistics of his hospital.

He pressed his lips. No, he knew it wasn't about the statistics... but the other explanation wasn't any excuse anyway. No matter how surprised he'd been, it didn't justify how he'd treated the kid. Even if he considered a suicide to be the worst stupidity and the greatest mistake a person might commit, why had he exploded like that? Why hadn't he checked his rage, hadn't contained himself, hadn't behaved with calm he was known of? For the Pirate King, he was a doctor...! He was a hospital director and an adult... and yet he'd acted like a brat, as if he hadn't been any older than that boy, himself. He'd let his emotions get the best of him and spewed out all those terrible things that wasn't for the ears of a child. No, for the ears of a _patient_.

He used to never lecture his patients. Sure, he would instruct them about a healthy lifestyle, but he never imposed his opinions on them. He only shared his knowledge and advised but never threatened, demanded or dictated what they should do. He never raised his voice, never backed his words with emotions in order to make a stronger impression. He left the decision to them because the moment they left the hospital they became responsible for their lives again. In contact with the patients, he was always calm and never said needless things, and if he sometimes smiled, it was just a light smile that didn't even affect the other person's way of being. Law remained perfectly neutral, and the only thing he had in common with the patient was the will to destroy the disease, for it was the only reason he was here. He never crossed the personal barriers, never treated the patients like friends, and never argued ad hominem.

Until now.

He wasn't the nicest man in the word - personally, he considered himself to be one of the least pleasant people that had ever lived in this world - but when work was in question, he tried to utilise his best traits. He thought he was a civil person, even though, outside the work, he used to speak straight and sometimes shocked others with his directness. However, he didn't consider himself as an evil, low man, and yet two days ago he'd acted exactly that way. He'd got mad at a child, had called him the worst and had been close to throw obscenities. He'd called the boy an ingrate - he, who didn't treat people in order to receive their gratitude. Sure, every doctor had a right to feel frustrated, upon seeing the fruit of his hard work was being make light of; he could feel that way when the kid had tried to kill himself just three days after Law had spent several hours using the Ope Ope no Mi to recreate almost every bone in his body... but such a behaviour just didn't befit him. The truth was that the other day he'd completely failed an exam for a human being, and he still didn't know _why_.

Before his eyes, unwanted, the face of the hospital's head psychiatrist flashed. He pulled his head in his shoulder and knitted his brows, staring at the night scenery he couldn't really see.

It must have been about something deeper... something much more personal if he'd been thrown off balance so much; the thing was, did he want to think of it? He knew from experience that psychoanalysis almost never led him to happy conclusions, and he didn't feel like worsening his already bad mood. However, since he'd never developed the ability to ignore certain matters once they'd caught on his mind - had never developed the healthy instinct of not contemplating the things that would only weigh him down - he now dived into his own psyche, telling himself it might help him to avoid similar situations in the future. There was nothing he wanted more than avoiding them.

Reluctantly, he recalled the face of the boy he'd saved from death in the freezing ocean. Well, that moment the kid had been red and blue from cold, but Law remembered his looks from their previous meeting. Oval, still pretty childish face - of a twelve-year-old? thirteen-year-old? - that he'd never seen with a smile. Ruffled brown hair and very blue eyes that were staring seriously, unlike of the child. His name was Rosapelo... but he wanted others to call him Pelo, for Rosapelo 'sounded like a girl'. He'd been hospitalised in the Corazon Memorial Hospital several times, for he suffered from a - working diagnosis - bone fragility of unknown origin that caused frequent fractures. The Ope Ope no Mi couldn't detect any anomaly in his organism, which was more than worrying in and of itself, but Law forced himself to forget it now. Apart from the health issues, the boy seemed to be an average kid - he went to school and liked to play football with friends. He lived only with his mother; the father didn't belong to the image, but it wasn't rare, so there was no need to attach any importance to that.

And then the very same Rosapelo, upon their next meeting, had appeared before him with his skeleton in little pieces after he'd been injured in a ship catastrophe. (Law hadn't recognised him, but it was of no significance here. He could at least console himself with the fact he was still human enough to not tell others apart because of what they had _inside_). Law had saved his life and felt he'd done a good job... only to see, just three days later, how the boy had tried to kill himself, and with very determination.

What it was that Kaya had said? That the boy's mother had drowned. The boy hadn't known about it that until two days later when he'd regained consciousness. How had he got known? In the worst cases, he'd been asked to identify a body. The kid had lost probably the only one member of his family. It was enough to become depressed and lose will to live... and it was also likely that he blamed himself for her death. Since they'd travelled to Raftel together, it meant one of them had been ill, and probably the boy, for if it had been mother afflicted, she'd have left her child home instead of taking it out for the storm. It wasn't really hard to understand that the boy who'd just been left all alone in the world - and with the feeling he'd caused the death of his only close person - could make such a drastic decision.

When one was Trafalgar D. Water Law, something like that was frighteningly easy understand.

Law crossed his legs, folded his arms and sank lower inside his chair, trying to ward himself off everyone and everything, especially that pain squeezing his heart in a familiar manner. He was still staring outside without seeing anything. Unwanted, his thought flew to the winter island on the North Blue, where twenty-six years ago he'd been in the very same situation he was witnessing now. He'd done his best to never recollect it, to leave that feeling in the past, cut off it and disguise it with a new goal, a new motivation, a new mission... but he'd never forgotten that after Corazon's death _he'd wanted to die_, himself.

That time on Minion, he'd only wished he could lie down next to the body of the man who'd become his whole world and then had died because of him, and fall asleep for ever... follow the one who'd given him everything and then had left to never come back. That moment, living had appeared to be a burden that a thirteen-year-old Law couldn't bear - burden of loneliness, of guilt, of emptiness. Life without Cora-san had lost all sense, while the death had seemed more tempting than ever. Only respect for his saviour - respect that hadn't allowed him to waste the sacrifice of the best of the men - had made Law get up and leave Minion instead of making it his own grave, too. It'd made him turn his life into a tribute, for he simply had no strength to live only for himself.

Law didn't like children, especially ill ones. The boys wishing death, he liked even less, for they too acutely reminded him of himself, nullifying twenty-six years of life as if they'd never passed. They would bring him back to Minion, to those moments of his greatest despair he didn't want to remember, for it would still, _still_, tear his heart to pieces. They would turn him again into that thirteen-year-old boy who could only hate living and crave to die. That wound had never scarred up, that part of him had never healed, had never closed, had never grown, had never matured. Even if normally he wasn't aware of it, it kept influencing him - his emotions, his feelings, his patterns of reacting and behaving - making some things unattainable for ever.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Still, did all that justify his actions? Did his personal feeling give him any right to act the way ha had towards another person who hadn't done anything wrong? No. The answer was the same, no matter what arguments he might use: he'd turned out to be a real bastard, just like Clione had said. At some point, he'd assumed _his_ grief and _his_ despair to be holy and allowing him everything. True, he'd always been an egoist unbothered by others' feeling... but today he felt particularly bad with this.

Then, maybe it was high time to let go of that grief and despair?, he asked himself, and it shocked him, for he'd never thought that way. The next moment he came to the conclusion he wouldn't get anywhere if, over and over, focusing only on himself, just like now. He clenched his teeth. This way or another, he shouldn't hide behind his own suffering and freely hurt others. He was still decent enough to know when he mistreated the other person.

He had to apologise. Regardless of his own feelings - or, maybe, precisely because of them - he had to apologise to the kid. The boy wasn't at fault here and hadn't deserved that aggression Law had treated him with. This one was obvious and sought redress. He'd always considered himself as someone to admit his own mistake, and he knew better than anyone he was just a human being and made mistakes in every other field than medical. It didn't make him happy - the prevention was better than cure, and that could be applied to every sphere of life, so it was his policy to rather avoid making mistakes than correct them later - but there was no use in arguing with the facts. Neither was there any point in delaying the inevitable more he'd already done so. He decided to go to the psychiatric ward once he was done with the morning surgeries; since he'd worked more yesterday, today his schedule wasn't so tight. The decision made his mood improve a bit, and he hoped that executing it would make him feel much better. And everything would be back to normal.

For now, it was enough that he finished his breakfast with renewed vigour and without that unpleasant sensation in his stomach, before going to work. Three hours passed in a flash, and it was slightly past eight that he was standing in front of the main door to the psychiatric ward. However, before he managed to enter it, Clione emerged from his office and, just like that, opened the door of the Seven for him.

"Do you have some kind of radar for me?" Law asked after ten seconds of mutual silence; the door had closed behind them.

"No, a surveillance Den Den Mushi in the hall," the psychiatrist answered, "with transmission to my office."

Law frowned. "You're not serious...?"

"I am serious. I had it installed yesterday, to keep an eye on the patients trying to run away."

"So that you could chase after them in the rain," Law muttered.

Clione shrugged, paying no attention to his sarcasm, just like always. "But I didn't need a Den Den Mushi to know you would come. You're a good man."

Now Law stared at him in clear disbelief before shaking his head. "Sometimes I feel like a total scum," he said quietly.

"I know," Clione replied simply, then patted him on the back and smiled lightly. "You're just a human, like all of us. I'm glad you came."

Law said nothing, only nodded. Now that he was here, he felt nervous, although it didn't affect his resolve. It only convinced him he should deal with the problem fast and return to his business.

"I'm just making sure... You came to talk with him, right?" Clione asked. "With Rosapelo...?"

"To apologise," Law muttered.

"Okay. He's in a pretty bad state, but apology won't harm him. Maybe it will even help."

"Did... Did he try to do something again?" Law asked, although he wasn't sure if he really cared.

The psychiatrist shook his head. "No. At present, he stopped doing _anything_," he replied. "Ah, you're going to see yourself."

Well, it was good to know the boy no longer made any attempt on his own life. Maybe he'd understood it wasn't a solution.

Clione showed him the way, and they walked into the corridor. The ward seemed just like always. It was the breakfast time, for some patients - those who didn't want to eat in their rooms - were sitting by the tables with the trays... but some of them hadn't got due attention. One patient apparently suffered from racing thoughts; she was talking to everyone around her about five things at the same time, unable to focus on eating. She was holding a sandwich in her hand probably for several minutes already, and even if she occasionally put it up to her mouth, she couldn't stop the torrent of words in order to even take one bit. Another patient was laughing his head off on the coach, although he didn't seem to listen to the woman's tale, more to his own thoughts or voices. Another one was standing in a stiff pose by the wall - his one leg in the air and one arm stretched forward - without blinking, and staring ahead.

Law saw yet another patient join that group. He was agitated and couldn't settle down; he sat down on the couch, only to get up the next moment and move to the chair. Then he snarled at the 'prattler', yelled at the 'funny man', cast the 'statue' an irritated look and quickly walked from when he'd come. Soon enough, he appeared again; he stopped in front of the Law and Clione and, his face some fifteen centimetres from psychiatrist's face, started to demand five different things he'd included in a single sentence before moving to the next five. Clione listened to him calmly, unbothered by the man's agitation seen in the annoyed tone and violent gesticulation, and then promised to talk to him a bit later.

"A few sunny days, and it started to rain maniacs," he explained as they resumed walking, although that much was obvious for Law.

"Spring is coming," he mumbled. "One could be fooled, if not for that minus twenty outside..."

Clione smiled with the corners of his lips again before going round the corner. Law followed him, and they soon entered one of the patient rooms. It was bathed in sunlight that probably made wonders for many patients... but not this particular one. Law realised right away he'd misinterpreted the psychiatrist's previous words that the boy had stopped trying anything. Rosapelo was sitting in the bed with his arms on the cover, staring at some point ahead and didn't react to their entrance. A tray with untouched breakfast was on the table, and Law imagined that the boy hadn't as much as cast a single glance at it.

"Good morning, Rosapelo," Clione said in a serene voice, stopping at the foot of the bed and waving at Law to come closer as well. "Doctor Law is here to see you. He would like to talk to you."

According to Law's expectation - and contrary to his hope - the boy didn't move nor made any gesture to show he was aware of their presence. He seemed to be completely absorbed in his own world, and the only sign of life was a sporadic flutter of eyelashes when he blinked. Law looked at Clione, who kept observing his patient. He wanted to ask if the kid was all right physically, but he guessed that the head psychiatrist must have already eliminated any bodily disease that might cause such a stupor. Well, Rosapelo wasn't the first person suffering from the severe depression Law had seen, even though he tried to avoid such sights. Without doubt, Clione would help him; after all, he was the best specialist in his field.

He, however, had come here for another purpose, and the sooner he was over with it, the sooner would he be able to return to his work. He sat down on the chair - the apologising person shouldn't look down on the one being apologised to - and tried to assume an expression that would be a bit more cheerful than his normal one. It probably made no difference, for Rosapelo didn't mean to look at him, but he tried anyway and hoped it turned out convincing.

He opened his mouth... and then closed it again. He realised he hadn't prepared for this talk. He hadn't thought it to be necessary, but now that he was here already, he had no idea how to start. That the boy was ignoring him altogether didn't help, either. Annoyed, Law realised that he'd really grown accustomed to the patients looking at him in full attention and listening to his words like sermon or divination. He felt an absurd urge to reach and shake the boy, although he was rational enough to know he absolutely mustn't do it.

He took a deep breath, although he felt very stupid doing so, especially in Clione's presence. The psychiatrist, however, didn't react at all; he kept standing in the foot of the bed, his hands with turquoise painted nails resting on the railing. Law glanced at the window and saw a gull flying outside, then stared at the boy again. He didn't need anger. He'd come here with a clear intention, and he would be damned if he didn't realise it. He should just go straight to the matter, just like he used to on other occasions.

"I came to apologise for the words I'd said the other day," he said outright, matter-of-factedly and without hesitation. He was saying what he thought. "You heard something I shouldn't have said to you. You did nothing wrong, and yet I treated you in a very nasty way. I don't want to explain why I did it, because my behaviour can't be excused. I only want to apologise to you, and I want you to know I regret what I did. I'm sorry, Pelo."

In the silence that fell, the steps in the corridor could be heard, followed by a nurse's voice. Law, however, hadn't expected any reaction, so silence was perfectly okay. He didn't know if the boy had heard him, taken in his words... but he couldn't do anything about it. He'd apologised, and it was the most important. He was glad he'd said what he'd wanted, thrown it off himself; he felt much better now. What was left was to wish the boy to recover soon, and he could leave.

However, before he managed to open his mouth again, an unexpected thing happened: Rosapelo slowly turned his head to look at him, and Law suddenly felt excited. After all, the boy must have been aware of his presence, must have heard him... even though he still seemed to be a living doll. It was probably a defence mechanism, but there was no emotion on his face - no sorrow, no fear, no despair, no offence - only emptiness. He was staring blankly, too, but Law had no doubt that the kid's blue eyes were focused on _him_.

In his medical sight, he noticed that the boy's face was thin and sunken. He looked tired, exhausted. He didn't seem to be in pain, which was a good thing after all those terrible fractures... But, on the other hand, Law knew well that state that a man stopped paying attention even to the physical pain: state of being dead while still alive. This boy was exactly like that: as if he - although he was still breathing - had died two days ago.

All of the sudden, that anger from two days earlier engulfed Law again, for it was all wrong. The kids just shouldn't want to kill themselves. No matter how hard the situation was, death was no solution. Himself, he'd understood it quickly and put all his effort into surviving and, later, clung to life, for he'd had to live also for that one who'd died because of him. So it was perfectly real, perfectly possible and manageable to grasp it... and yet that brat seemed as if hadn't cared about anything anymore...! As if the only thing he wanted was to die...?

Law knew something was very wrong about him thinking this way, and yet once more - again! - he couldn't stop himself. "How could you act that way?" he asked in reproof and saw the boy flinch. "It was so stup-"

"Law, I think it's best if you leave," Clione interrupted him, putting one hand on his shoulder. "Now, come."

Law didn't move; he kept looking at the boy. He hoped he would provoke some response... but then Rosapelo turned his head and once more stared at an invisible point ahead, and Law had to contain that impulse from a moment ago: to grab the boy's arm and make him face him... make him look at him again.

Clione's fingers dug deeper in his shoulder. He shook the psychiatrist's hand, rose and exited the room without a word, pressing his lips in a thin line. Clione asked a nurse to stay with the boy before following Law.

"I don't know if you deserve a passing mark," he said as they walked. "You started well, but then it turned worse, unfortunately. Don't visit him for a while," he ordered, although Law didn't plan to visit the kid _at all_. "The last thing that boy needs are your accusations. Or anyone's, for that matter."

Law remained silent, walking with his gaze fixed ahead. He was mad - at the boy, at Clione, and at himself. Nothing good would come from associating with the psychiatrists and their patients, he'd always known it. He wanted to leave and not show his face around here for as long as possible, which meant until the end of the month when his next psychiatric day came.

Before he reached the main doors, his anger had managed to fade, at least that directed at his surroundings. Something was happening to him, something very bad... Why, for all Devil Fruits, couldn't he behave _normally?_ What he was doing and feeling now, was so unlike him and made his hair stand on end... Soon, however, he came to the sober conclusion that the Seven was the last place he wished to wonder about it.

"Despite the bad ending, I wouldn't say that your visit was a catastrophe, though," Clione spoke again. "The boy reacted to your speech. It was more than we got in two days, he wouldn't even look at us... Maybe because you... How did you address him? Pelo? Why?"

Law took a deep breath. His pulse was still quick, but he knew he was calming down; besides, he could never stay mad at Clione. And, actually, he hadn't been mad at him, in the first place. "Everyone calls him that," he grunted in response, looking at the psychiatrist askance. "He says that Rosapelo sounds like a girl."

Clione was staring at him as he had just grown another head. "You're reading his mind?" he asked without emotion.

Law rolled his eyes. "He told me the first time I examined him."

Now the look that the psychiatrist cast him was very focused, penetrating, and sharp. Law couldn't resist the impression that Clione had got some idea in his psychiatric mind, but the latter said only, "I see."

"No psychoanalysis," Law warned him.

"I didn't say anything."

And Law, for some reason, found it even more disturbing and felt annoyed again. He ran his hands through his hair and took another deep breath. Yes, it was high time to evacuate from here before he lost it.

Clione opened the door for him and patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it," he said in a comforting voice. "We'll manage. Thanks for coming."

Law headed for the lift without a word. He had surgeries to perform, and he should focus on them now. He had a minute or two for regaining his balance. Irritation, anger, fury were pointless. He had to move forward, forget about what had happened, today and two days before. Clione had said not to worry about it, and he was right. There was no need that Law worried about a single kid, much less let him spoil his mood. He'd done what he should: just like he'd planned, he'd apologised to the boy. It was over.

Even so, he just couldn't calm down, for he had a feeling that everything had gone wrong and he could blame only himself, again. What had he expected? That the boy would generously accept his humble apology and say he forgave him? And they would part their ways in accord? And yet, he'd got only a silent look - was that what had upset him so much? And strengthened the impression he couldn't leave it at that, that it wasn't end yet... that he had to return there, go once more to that sunlit room with a dead alive boy... and try to apologise again, try to convince him... and finally get some answer...?

He felt like ruffling his hair out of frustration, but in the end he used the Ope Ope no Mi to regulate his physiological functions. Pulse sixty per minute. Breathing twelve per minute. Blood pressure one-hundred-twenty over seventy. Muscle tone normal. However, calming his body didn't help the feeling of irritation, and the moment he entered the operating theatre, he berated Shachi and Penguin for that the first patient wasn't ready. The patient, actually, was ready and waiting in the adjacent room for Law to operate him; soon, they started.

The reasons for bitching were more: 'the flow of oxygen is too weak, turn it on, the monitor is beeping too loud, switch it off, why those ECG cables are tangling under my feet, why there are only two pairs of gloves in the box, and what are those illegible scribbles in the medical record, should we send for Nico Robin to have it deciphered?' And so on, and so on... His two assistants bore with his bad mood... and didn't seem to be bothered at all. Well, they were the masters of taunting, and they cheerfully subjected one another to mutual mockery on a daily basis - it could have something to do with the fact they were best friends - so they probably needed more to feel offended.

When the surgeries were over, and the three of them were changing into normal clothes, Shachi said in a casual manner, "Boss, you're quite out of sorts today... Did you get out of bed on the wrong side?"

"That's because that nurse returned to her island, right?" Penguin asked with a meaningful grin. "Why didn't you offer her a better salary to keep her here, Boss?"

Law looked at him with a frown. A nurse...? Ah, Ida. He hadn't thought of her in the last two days... "You think only of women," he retorted, putting on his coat. "Like always."

"I beg your pardon," Shachi said with dignity that got out of sync with his appearance, for when he straightened up to glance at Law, his trousers fell to his ankles and he stood only with his pants on. "I think only of my wife."

"Me too," Penguin backed him.

Shachi looked at him askance. "Penguin... You think of my wife?" he asked.

"No, you moron. My own one!"

Shachi grabbed his trousers again, pulled up and belted up. "Well, my woman and your woman together are two women," he stated, then glanced at Law again and added reluctantly, "So Boss was right."

"Like always," Penguin muttered in a similar tone.

Law rolled his eyes. It was impossible to have a normal, serious conversation with those two. He hung the stethoscope over his neck and headed to the door. Before leaving, he raised one arm to thank them for the work and heard them giving each other a high five. He could imagine them grin and felt the corner of his lips twitch, too. However, when he made for the lift - he planned to stop by the canteen and grab an ersatz lunch - his foul mood was back.

In the morning, everything had started to look good, he thought, getting himself some salad. He'd come to the right conclusions and made a plan aimed at bringing the situation to normal. He'd even managed to realise it... and yet the things had just taken a turn for the worse. No matter how he tried, he couldn't stop thinking of the boy that was currently lying on the Seven and appeared perfectly absent. But he was there, more real than anyone else in this hospital, for Law couldn't get him out of his head. He could almost feel his presence, just one floor down, under this very corridor as he was walking towards his office holding his lunch.

He didn't even know if all that was about the boy or himself. When he focused on one, the other would jump out like a jack-in-the-box. The boy, his presence, his case, his condition... disturbed and annoyed him. And the more annoyed he became, the more he realised his own condition that was far from normal. The boy made Law behave unlike himself. Trafalgar Law who was shouting at his patients, wasn't just a deviation from the norm; it was bloody turning on the head of everything he was. And when he'd tried to remedy it, had gone and _apologised_, then, for some reason, the situation had only worsened. He'd got angry again, and was even more furious now. He'd become trapped in that circle and had no idea how to break free.

He only knew that if it lasted, he would undoubtedly go crazy. He would really go crazy, and Clione would lock him on his ward, first putting the Seastone cuffs on him. And Law wouldn't be able to work, while working was his last bastion of normality...

It all would be totally absurd if not for the fact he hadn't been so upset in ages. Clione would be more than happy to talk about it, damn him... The psychiatrist seemed to have an odd fixation for his psyche... but maybe he behaved that way towards everyone, Law wasn't sure.

Somehow, he managed to eat the lunch, but he tried to do it so quickly he almost choked. As for the consultation session, he could concentrate on it very poorly, but he didn't refrain from scolding one of the surgeons, anyway. He immediately apologised for his tone, and then he made his best to speak only when it was absolutely necessary. The next few hours, he spent admitting the new patients, and it was that moment of relief he'd desperately needed. Even if everything else went to hell, at least on the work with patient he could focus perfectly, and he hoped it would never change.

At some point, however, the patients had run out, and Law was left with his bad mood that came back as if it'd just awaited the first occasion. In the end, he began to wish for some catastrophe, another red alert that would take his mind off that awful situation for half a day, maybe even longer... Fortunately, the providence must have had something else to do than listen to the evil requests of the doctors suffering from a serious lack of morality, and the evening passed without disturbance, so Law didn't manage to avoid yet another confrontation with his poor humour.

Like usually, he'd admitted several children, and now, as he was browsing through their medical charts and making a plan of treatment for tomorrow, analysing every case in his head and deciding on the best method, their faces were obscured by the face of that single kid who didn't give a damn about the effort put into his recovery. Law had no doubt that Clione and the whole staff of the Seven did everything to help him. Actually, even more people were involved his recovery process, among others a paediatrician and even he, Trafalgar Law...

He raised his eyes and straightened in the chair when a realisation struck him: himself, he was doing _nothing_ to help the boy, quite the contrary. It was like a blow making one see stars. He arose from the desk and left onto the balcony; he hoped cold - it was some minus twenty-five - would cool his thoughts. He rested his elbows on the railing, and the forehead on the clasped hands. In this very moment, it was the disgust with himself he felt in the first place.

What it was Clione had said? 'He doesn't need your accusations.'

It was high time to end that contempt he had for the boy. It was where he should start, otherwise he wouldn't get anywhere. He was an adult, and being angry with a child didn't befit an adult. No matter what the boy had done, no matter how he behaved, no matter how he treated others, and no matter what kind of feelings he prompted in him - Law _had to_ cease seeing him as a bother and a nuisance. The kid was a patient in this hospital, he was ill and needed treatment, and that was how Law should think of him. And every patient deserved care, concern and sympathy, just like that and in principle. It was the right starting point.

He remembered he'd been on a good way this very morning. He'd already started to treat the boy as someone who didn't need aggression only consideration, but then he'd focused on himself and his own story, and the situation had gone back to square one. He was such an idiot... but the worst thing to do was to occupy himself with this thought, so he rather tried to recall that mood and those feeling from the morning... although his own words, those he'd told the boy, kept returning to him to cut deep into his conscience and squeeze his chest.

All indications were that the boy had lost the only family member he'd had, and a mother, on top of it; for a child, a mother was always the most important figure. It could be that he was all alone now. Even if he had some relatives, it didn't mean he would find a loving home. Himself, he probably felt that he had nothing, that there was only emptiness, that everything had ended - and he also blamed himself for having contributed to the death of his beloved person.

How Law could condemn him for wishing to die? Even if he knew now that life was worth more than death, he had once gone through the very same stage of despair and waiting for his end, or even begging for it. Rosapelo's and his were almost _identical_ cases. Law had managed, had got back on his feet, but it hadn't been an easy thing. How could he demand that Rosapelo immediately pulled himself together and returned to life?

The boy withdrew into himself, cut himself off everything, has almost lost touch with the world. It was obvious he was suffering. He probably couldn't find anything worth living for. He probably considered life as a darkness without a single light. When his age, Law had managed to find that light inside him, and it'd allowed him to walk even through the most frightening darkness, but that boy couldn't do it, not now, not yet.

And Law, instead of understanding it, had started to yell at him, had started to accuse him and negate all sense of living, that must have been thinner than the thinnest thread anyway. If Kaya and Clione hadn't broken in, he would have probably ended his thought, 'It's not a place for the likes of you, so get out of here'. A cold shiver ran down his spine, and it had nothing to do with the fact he was standing in the blistering cold; it was caused by realisation that his words could have been interpreted as 'Go and kill yourself somewhere else', and despite his previous actions. With one hand, he had stopped the boy from committing a suicide, but with the other, he'd almost pushed him to it. How could he have done so?

And later? Today? He'd gone to apologise, and yet he'd started to reproach him again - a kid who probably considered himself to be the most wretched man in the world. 'He doesn't need your accusations.' Of course he didn't! How would Law have felt that time on Minion or later, if someone had thrashed him, called him a fool and trampled the last of the self-esteem he'd still had? Maybe he would've braced himself, clenched his teeth and just walked on, in spite of everything... or maybe it would've been the final straw, the last grain to tip the scale, and no light, no memory of love, no sense of mission would have been able to save him anymore. When one had no strength, a single gust of wind was enough to wipe a man off the face of the earth. Cries and complaints, aggression and frustration... It wasn't how one helped a grieving person to rebuilt his life. He knew it the best, he'd experienced it himself, and he still couldn't put that knowledge into practice. He was almost forty, and he kept behaving so immaturely. What good was of being the greatest doctor in the world, if he didn't understand the most basic things any decent man should follow...?

He remembered the boy's face as he'd seen it today. Pale skin, marked by bruises and scratches. Sunken cheeks and big, intensely blue eyes with dark rings. A blank face, devoid of emotions that had to be unbearable. Was Law really such a vicious man that the sight didn't awaken any sympathy? Or could it be that he'd focused on himself, on saying what he'd wanted to say, in order to leave as soon as possible? His words... Now that he recollected them, they seemed so unnatural, devoid of any feeling or conviction behind them. It was as if he'd just handed out a pat answer, although he hadn't really prepared it... which was a sign of disregard, too.

The boy had evoked such a strong reaction in him because he'd too strongly reminded him of his own tragedy from the past - the tragedy Law had never moved forward from. That parallel, however, instead of bringing out his best traits, had brought out the worst ones. Instead of sparking compassion, it had induced animosity that bordered disgust, along with the need to remove that element from his eyes. Now he was almost terrified, seeing who he'd become, and maybe of his own volition, too.

He straightened his elbows and leaned even more forward, burying his face in the fabric of his sleeve and covering his head with the other arm.

The truth was - although he didn't mean to excuse his behaviour with it - that when it came to the interpersonal things, he completely lost confidence and discernment, falling to the level of a crude boor. He was a genius doctor capable of curing any disease, but as a human being he barely passed the test. He kept others at a distance and, at all cost, avoided topics that might engage him not as a doctor but as a man - for he knew it was his weakest point - to say nothing of avoiding feelings and bonds. Rosapelo had fallen a victim to that inability... that disability of being a human, and Law was fully aware of it. Now he only had to make his best not to conveniently forget it.

What would Cora-san say if he could see him now? For certain, he wouldn't have wanted for Law to grow into such a person...? If he'd stayed... if he'd never left... if Law could keep bathing in that love capable of changing the world... then everything would have been different now. Yet, the kid that had been left alone with just a memory of kindness, with crushing feeling of guilt, and with a dreadful loneliness, couldn't have turned into an angel, that Law understood perfectly well. It had taken all his might to not turn into a devil instead.

Cold became too annoying... it too much brought back memories of that night on Minion, when he'd lost everything and only shreds had been left in his hands. He had to stop it. He returned to his office, shutting the door with his numb fingers. For a moment, he was sitting in the cold room, disgusted with himself, dejected, but finally completely calm. A self-examination, even if it was to his disadvantage, had helped him to burn out that anger that had been blazing inside him for two days and disturbing his thoughts, as even the Ope Ope no Mi could do nothing about it.

It was a good moment to make some sensible decisions, ones he could stick to. One was obvious: just like Clione had said, he should keep away from the boy. He wasn't someone perfect who always knew how to act and treat others, so there was no point in imposing himself on those that his presence might harm. He had to swallow down his pride... hide deeply the belief he was someone that people ran to from all the world, for even if it was true in any other case, it was the contrary in this particular one. Trafalgar Law was intelligent enough to understand it.

In Clione and his team's care, the boy would surely recover, Law didn't doubt it. The head of the psychiatry department had much more patience with people, as it was supposed to be. The little patient would soon feel better, even if the Corazon Memorial Hospital couldn't return him anything but health. In any case, Law should step back and don't tamper with his treatment. He'd known all along that psychiatry is the last field he might prove himself as a doctor, and he at least accepted that realisation humbly. They didn't need him there, not this time.

He breathed deeply several times and finally felt he was ready to get back to work. When he resumed browsing through the medical records, he could focus on the new patients entirely. He lacked his normal enthusiasm, but he decided to settle for it now. He consoled himself with the thought that dejection belonged to today, and tomorrow, without doubt, everything would be better.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

The next day, it wasn't better at all.

Law felt he was the worst outcast under the sun, and all he could think about was to see Rosapelo and apologise him again. He needed to do everything in his power to make the boy understand that he was really sorry and regretted his words and behaviour. That thought stuck to him like an obsession and didn't let him focus on anything else. It was something he couldn't argued himself out of or stifle with any reasonable arguments, although he didn't really try to. He forgot altogether that just a few hours earlier he'd decided to never approach the boy again... or, rather, it was that today's needs obscured yesterday's decisions.

With some rational part of him, he realised he was being ridiculous - such an emotional distress was completely unlike him - but it only strengthened his belief that he should deal with the matter once and for all. He had no doubt that once he spoke to the boy - Rosapelo probably felt better already and could accept his apology - his mood would be back to normal. As long as he didn't get rid of that burden, he wouldn't be able to focus on working, just like this very morning. Even if during the surgeries the Ope Ope no Mi made him cut himself off from everything, between the subsequent patients Law almost physically sensed the presence of that particular boy on the seventh floor, which made him every time drown in the emotions, among others guilt. It was like some part of him was in pain: he was aware of it all the time, even if he managed to occasionally forget about it, but after each forgetting he could felt it even more acutely.

In the end, his morning passed in the same mood as the whole previous day, that was in total irritation. Shachi and Penguin took a bashing for nothing again, he also scolded several other people, although he realised he acted in a pathetic and reprehensible manner. Around noon, he was done with the surgeries and had a moment to go on the psychiatry, which he did. However, when he was about to enter the ward, Clione emerged from his office and waved at him.

"Do you have nothing else to do than stare at the transmission?" Law asked ironically, not moving from his spot.

"No, it was probably that radar of mine this time," the psychiatrist answered without emotion. "Good morning to you, too. I'm glad to see you, like always... But what are you doing here, actually?"

Law ordered himself to remain calm. "I must speak to Rosapelo," he replied outright.

"You don't remember what I told you yesterday?" Clione asked with a frown.

"I do, but what does it matter?" Law grunted.

"What do you mean, 'what does it matter'?" Clione drew himself up to his full height, although even in the high-heels he was still shorter of the two of them. He looked around before dragging Law into his office. "If I ask you not to visit my patient, I say it as a doctor, not on a whim," he said when the door closed behind them. "And I expect it to be respected."

Law snorted. "Come on, I need only a few minutes."

Clione shook his head. "No. Maybe some time later, but certainly not today nor tomorrow. I'm sorry."

Law knitted his brows. "You're serious? You won't let me see him? Why? It's ridiculous... You think I'm going to do something to him?" he asked in disbelief.

The psychiatrist gave him a sympathetic look and sighed. "Law, it's not like I don't believe your pure intent," he replied with a gentle conviction. "I only don't believe entirely your self-control... especially after what happened yesterday."

Law shook his head, annoyed. "I promise I won't say anything stupid this time," he said in a quiet, emphatic voice. "I only want to apologise to him...!"

Clione raised his brows. "I think you already had...?"

"But I'm not sure if it reached him," Law dawdled reluctantly.

"Well, I'm afraid nothing really changed in his situation since yesterday, so you'll hardly have any luck. I'll get you know when his condition is better and your visit is desirable, trust me," Clione said in a calm tone that left no space for negotiating.

Law felt like grinding his teeth. He'd forgotten that, among other people, psychiatrists were those who couldn't be easily persuaded into changing their viewpoints. He wondered if he should insist... Or maybe he should just ignore Clione and his position? After all, he was a director of this hospital and had power that was close to absolute...

Yet, he knew it would be the most evil thing to do. What kind of a doctor would he be if he didn't respect his colleagues' autonomy and opinions? No, he couldn't do it, no matter how desperately he wanted to carry out his plans.

"Why is it so important to you?" Clione asked, giving him a thoughtful look.

Law clung to that question. Maybe he still had some chances...? "I just... I must speak with him. I can't focus on anything," he admitted irritably, averting his eyes. "So really-"

"Not today. Bear with it for a few days."

Law hissed angrily. "A few days? I think that I'll end on your ward before that. I'm really close to that. Why-"

Clione came closer, put one hand on his shoulder and looked in his face. "Listen, Law," he said in a serious voice and with penetrating gaze in his slate-blue eyes. "I understand you're feeling bad after what happened, but every doctor... every person makes mistakes. Even you, the greatest doctor in the world. We can't help it; we can only learn from them. You must accept what you've done... and move on. After all, it's not like anything serious, anything irreparable happened. Your doctor's pride shouldn't suffer so much because of a single... ah, lapse, so you should-"

"Cut the funny talk, I know that, all right?" Law interrupted him peevishly and took a step back. "Besides... what 'pride'? What the fuck are you talking about, Clione?"

"That's because you're acting strange," the psychiatrist said, folding his arms, "and the only thing I can think of is that you're mad at yourself because, being a hospital director, you mistreated a patient... And thus your self-esteem is giving you a hard time."

"I am mad at myself, and my self-esteem is giving me a hard time," Law agreed. "And I want to apologise to that kid, so that I won't feel even a worse person I already do, damn it!" he blurted before he managed to bite his tongue.

In the silence that fell, he could hear ticking of the clock on the wall and steps in the hall. He regretted his words the moment they left his mouth, but he couldn't take them back.

Clione spent a longer while observing him with a frown, and then something flashed in his eyes. He sighed again and lowered his arms. "Law, is there something you'd like to talk with me about?" he asked softly.

"The hell, no!" Law barked and turned around to grab at the door handle.

"But if you want, you know where to find me. And I'm sorry for what I said. It was ill-considered of m-"

Law didn't listen; he left to the hall and then walked to the stairs. He run up to the eight floor, trying to calm down, but his pulse was too quick, and his ears were humming. He hated to feel this way. He hated to be upset, to be annoyed and irritated. Over the years, he'd almost forgotten those emotions, for his life had been filled with work, and work was the sense of his life. He'd almost believed that he, Trafalgar Law, would never have those unpleasant sensations again; there was nothing in his world to cause them...

'But you don't live in void. You can't cut yourself off from things you can't influence, and they are plenty,' a common sense spoke in his head, and it sounded strangely like Clione these days.

And what good it was, if even that knowledge didn't make it easier to control his rage that was showing in his behaviour now? He entered the canteen at a fast pace that should be avoided in any hospital. He put himself some food on the plate, almost scattering the content of the containers all around. When he placed the tray on the table, he did it so forcibly that the glasses clattered and several people dining around turned to look at him.

"Wow, you're mad indeed," he heard a familiar voice.

He raised his eyes and looked at the person sitting opposite to him. Ikkaku. Great, the last person he needed now... He pulled the chair out in a violent manner and sat down. "I have problems with a psychiatrist. And with a kid," he barked and grabbed the cutlery.

As the silence prolonged, he cast Ikkaku a furtive and reluctant look over his plate. The head of the obstetrics and gynaecology department was staring at him blankly, clearly stunned - she, who always had a snappy retort to his every statement...! If the situation had been different, he would be satisfied, but not now when everything was so pathetic.

Finally, Ikkaku shook her head and finished her lunch. "Sorry, I must've heard wrong," she said in a hesitating voice.

"You heard wrong," Law agreed. Really, could he fall even lower than pouring his heart out to everyone around without any self-respect? He suddenly lost an appetite. He got up and grabbed the tray.

Ikkaku quickly reached over the table and caught his sleeve. "Come on, sit down. You're not a chase little virgin to shy from a talk," she said without ceremony. "Besides, you better eat something. Knowing you, you haven't eaten since breakfast, right?"

"What are you?" he grunted, sitting down. "My-" He stopped. No 'wife' nor 'mother' fitted this conversation, and he'd be damned if he ever used those words.

"I'm your friend," Ikkaku replied with lofty dignity. "In case you forgot."

Law took a hearty portion of fish bake on his fork and shoved it inside his mouth. He ate without really feeling the taste of the food.

"What's happening, Law?" Ikkaku asked. "You get mad at people, snap at everyone around. It's not like you. When you're in a bad mood, you just turn more aloof and stop talking, you don't take it out on others. Even during that last storm you were a haven of peace. And now? You're close to shooting sparks, and you make it obvious that people shouldn't cross your way. Any minute you could start shamblesing people for having approached you. Penguin and Shachi whined to me yesterday about you getting angry at them. I said they'd probably deserved it," she informed offhand. "But today you scolded my intern, and she certainly didn't deserve that," she added reprovingly before throwing in a provocative manner, "The last time I saw you like that... You were fifteen and going through puberty. Ah, what a fun that was..."

Law didn't give to the taunt - his mood was bad enough without that - only kept eating. Fifteen? It seemed to belong to another life...

"What has Clione done to you?" came another question, and this time it had a reaction: Law's level of irritation started to near the red line. He was still mad at the psychiatrist for what had happened.

"He tried to psychoanalyse me," he replied, although it was a bit disconnected from the truth. Quite much, actually.

Ikkaku raised one brow. "But he always tries," she pointed out, putting the glass down. "And not only you but everyone, so what's the big deal? Though, true, I would be livid, too, if I went on a date and ended on a couch."

"I don't go on dates with Clione," Law replied, driving away the thought that it'd been a while since the psychiatrist had flirted with him last time, no matter how idiotic it sounded.

"Of course you don't!" Ikkaku snorted. "He's too wise for that. For all love our angel of patience has for you, even he wouldn't stay with you longer. But it's not a reason to get mad," she said sharply.

Law looked up in anger and pointed his fork at her. "I can't see any logic in your words, yet they unnerve me even more than usually," he said point blank. "Which isn't pleasant since I'm already pretty annoyed. Let me ask you... How can you stand being peeved all the time? I've been upset just for a few days, and I'm already fed up with it. If I were such a spitfire, I would've been dead long ago."

Ikkaku straightened in the chair. "Hey, that was mean," she responded resentfully. "It sounded as if you considered me some kind of a monster capable only of rage... while I, too, can be nice...?" When he said nothing, she shook her head, making her curls bounce. "And whose fault do you think it is...? You expect a woman who spent over ten years in a submarine with twenty guys to be a good girl?"

"As far as I remember, you were pretty ill-tempered even before joining the crew," Law muttered and resumed eating.

"Well, good girls don't join the pirate crews," Ikkaku stated the obvious. "But don't you change the topic now. Did anything happen, Law? Any problems with a patient? With the patient's relatives? A difficult case? But there's no such a thing like a difficult case for you... Or could it be that you're suffering from Bepo's absence?"

Law stared at her in disbelief. "What Bepo has to do with it?"

"Well, it's him who he always takes all your moods on the chin."

"I don't lace into Bepo, if that's what you mean," he replied.

"For all Devil Fruits, no-one's saying it!" she said in exasperation. "But I wouldn't be surprised if his presence had a major impact on your mood. He's the only person in the world that you open to, just a bit. I bet Bepo is the first to know if something stresses you. Now he's not here, and you're so fumed as if you'd like to destroy this hospital from the inside. For me, those two things are related."

"Now _you_ play a psychiatrist?" Law snapped back at her.

"I don't need to be a psychiatrist to tell that much," she replied, waving her hand in a dismissive way.

Law said nothing only kept eating.

"What were you babbling about some kid? I have two, so maybe I could help you...?" she offered. "Though I've no idea what Trafalgar Law and children could have in common... Or is it this age, already? You started to consider adopting a kid...?" she added with irony that today hurt Law.

"If you really must talk to me, then would you please not tell rubbish?" he snarled.

Ikkaku, however, didn't care about that remark at all. She was looking at him with a pensive expression for a longer while, and then something flashed in her dark eyes. "A kid and psychiatry, maybe it's about..." she muttered, frowning. "Right, I haven't got it earlier... Berni mentioned the other day they had that nasty situation on their ward, with one boy trying to commit suicide. That's what you're talking about? Damn you, Law. Why people always have to guess such things? Why don't you speak normally? That's what it's about, right?"

Law pressed his lips. He'd forgotten Ikkaku's husband was working on the paediatric ward...

"It's not your fault," his colleague went on. "Besides, he's not the first suicidal patient in this hospital. I bet half of those on the Seven suffer from such ideas before they recover, so what's the big deal? Clione takes care of him and gets him on his feet, just like everyone. It's not your problem."

Law remained silent. It seemed that at least the information of his personal involvement in the matter had yet to reach Ikkaku's ear... and he hoped it wouldn't.

"I can understand something like that might distress you," Ikkaku continued, and now her voice was almost compassionate. "We all know your unhealthy ambition... your obsession with fighting with death," she said with a wry smile. "Fortunately, that case didn't end tragically; the worst didn't happen, and that's the most important thing. The boy will surely recover on the Seven. Our chief psychiatrist is the best in his field, isn't he? He knows his job even better than make-up and styling," she added reluctantly, staring at her unpainted fingernails before looking at Law again. "So don't let it bother you so much. You have your own work, right?"

"Mhm."

"Speaking of what, I have, too..." Ikkaku pushed out the chair and got up. "I must go to my ward. Try not to bully people on the consultations, okay? I mean... except for surgeons, they deserve it by default. They are mean and prance," she informed, taking her tray. "Take care!"

The next moment she was gone, and Law, despite everything, felt left alone with his problem. It was absurd, for he used to keep things to himself and never share his trouble with anyone, even less expect any help or advice. Now, however, he was mad at Ikkaku for having first worn him with questions and then left, cutting the conversation halfway through. He realised he was, in fact, mad at everything and everyone around, also at himself, but directing that anger at someone else seemed to be a better idea, even if it was extremely foolish, too... He didn't want to admit that talking to Ikkaku had helped him a bit, for the head of the obstetrics and gynaecology department hadn't been bothered in the slightest by his behaviour, his whole fury falling off her like water off a duck, or, rather, she'd neutralised it with her own fire. She at least wouldn't be hurt by his nasty mood, and it was some comfort; in the last three days, his incivility or even an open aggression had hurt enough people already.

On the consultations, he did his best to control himself and criticise no-one, even the surgeons, in which he succeeded pretty well. (Only one oncology resident left the session with an expression clearly indicating that she considered herself to be the most stupid and pathetic person in the world and was thinking of a career change). The new admissions guaranteed Law a few hours of calm - he hadn't fallen as low as to display his bad mood to the _patients_ (unless, of course, they tried to kill themselves before his very eyes), and he believed such a day would never come. In the evening, however, he was left alone in his office... and during the paper work, he recalled his talk with Ikkaku.

He sighed. He realised his anger was gone. Maybe he'd entered the stage of that silent resignation and yielding to the circumstances...? Quite fast... but it fitted. He really couldn't be mad longer than a few days... Now he felt, above all, mortified by his own actions, but he had to trust that the problem was past him already and he would be finally able to regain his balance...? He really missed it.

For all her meanness, Ikkaku sometimes said things that struck to the core. Clione did too, but for some reason taking it from the psychiatrist was harder. Today - he'd been very unlucky - he'd heard from the two of them, separately, the same message, even though put in another words... the same assumption that had really hurt him. First Clione had spoken of Law's doctor's pride, about his self-esteem as a hospital director, and then Ikkaku had thrown that line about his boundless, obsessive ambitions - she'd called them 'unhealthy' - as a doctor.

It sounded as if they both saw him only through medicine and considered him to be someone who didn't care about anything else. Clione and his, 'Don't worry about one mistake, you have more important things to do'. Ikkaku and her, 'Don't worry about one boy, you have more serious work'. It was very easy to come to the conclusion that, in their eyes, he was some kind of a monster whose life evolved only around treating and curing people, around the hospital and the professional ambitions. For some reason, today, that analyse had hurt like hell.

Now, however, when he thought about it calmly, he realised it was exactly like that. How could they - and not only those two, but everyone else, too - consider him to be someone else after he'd cultivated such an image of himself for a quarter of a century already? In his life, there _was nothing else_ than medicine, curing, realising his plans and ambition; those things would take all his time. His life as a whole evolved around the Ope Ope no Mi. Trafalgar Law was firstly, secondly and thirdly a doctor, any possible aspects of a human being so far that he could hardly see them. There were no bonds, for he kept others at bay. There was no friendship, for he avoided it. There was no love, for he wasn't capable of it. There was no family, for he didn't need it. His identity was defined by his profession, and his vocation was guided by the Ope Ope no Mi. How could he blame others for seeing him this way if his every word, every action and his attitude proved that picture to fully corresponded to reality? There was no such a person like 'Law'. Actually, it was a miracle that there were still people in the world who didn't address him as 'Doctor Law'.

The current situation reflected it perfectly. He'd flipped out on an innocent boy, for he hadn't fitted his medical vision. He'd treated him the way that was far from human. And when his conscience had made him apologise... wasn't it what Clione had said today: that, as a doctor, he just couldn't stand that feeling of guilt?

It was as if that time on Minion, twenty-six years ago, his heart had died and had been replaced by the Ope Ope no Mi. As if that day, Law had turned into Doctor Law. It wasn't so hard to believe that, and that the change was completely irreversible, too. Actually, maybe it was what had suited him the best that time: as a doctor, he could cure anyone and never experience the defeat again, while as a human he had had nothing but suffering... And that was how he'd spent the next quarter of a century: guided by that idea that he didn't need to no longer wonder about, for it had been his only imperative.

And since he hadn't found anything else, since he didn't feel confident with anything else... shouldn't he rely on it this time as well? He _was_ a doctor; he _had_ the Ope Ope no Mi. Curing was his task, medicine was his mission, helping was his goal - not because someone had decided that, but because he himself had assumed that as his own principle to base his existence on. Sticking to them was the only sensible... the only safe course of action.

Maybe that was why he'd already calmed down. Maybe that was why he'd already given up on that anger. Maybe that was why he already could accept the situation. He had to move on. He had to leave others their job and focus on his own. It was his task to cure those terminally ill patients, and he shouldn't be bothered with anything else. That was the only reason why he was here, in the Corazon Memorial Hospital.

He took a deep breath and then another, greeting like a good friend that sense of calm that had finally overtaken him. He knew how he should start: tomorrow, he would apologise to everyone he'd mistreated. To tell the truth, he couldn't bear the thought of a prolonged discord with Shachi, Penguin and Clione. Actually, he should be happy that Bepo was absent, for it was certain that the mink too would have taken a bashing, and that was something Law wanted the least.

Well, there were more people he should apologise to, but even if he had to repent before the whole staff, he would do it. It was high time to stop this unproductive farce and start behaving as befitted the hospital director. He'd wasted enough time on rubbish, harming others along the way. They didn't need the annoyed, furious and unpredictable Trafalgar Law, only the calm and composed Doctor Law, whose reliability they could always count on. He would assume that part again; it was the only wise choice. He wasn't a fifteen-year-old kid in puberty, like Ikkaku had said.

Leaning over the medical records again, he tried to ignore that unpleasant sensation in his chest. He told himself that the Ope Ope no Mi couldn't ache.

* * *

The next morning, Law waked up dejected but calm. He managed to smile when reading the letter from Ida he'd found on his desk and opened during breakfast; yesterday, he hadn't felt like browsing through the correspondence. The nurse described the situation on Vokzel in an enthusiastic-optimistic manner, and Law could feel her emotions as clearly as if she'd been sitting next to him. The power had been turned back on in the hospital on the neighbouring island, but the repairs were still in process. The patients and the staff, however, had returned from the relocation, even though the hospital wasn't fully operational yet. Ida thanked for the help that the Corazon Memorial Hospital had given, and hoped to once more visit Raftel, although it wouldn't happen anytime soon, for she had more work than enough, but she didn't mean to complain.

Law concluded that the nurse's condition returned to normal. At least, it seemed she didn't have any trauma with sea journeys, which was a good sign. He thought he would gladly meet her, himself, but that thought was followed by another: Ida had a fiancé. He quickly decided his reasoning lacked logic; however, before he managed to be bothered by that discovery, his breakfast was over and it was time to start working. Before heading for the first ward today, he apologised to the worker of the canteen - Marianna, as the name tag on her gown informed - for his unseemly behaviour and asked her to pass it to the rest of the personnel.

Marianna, a stout women in her fifties, first cast him a stunned look and then burst out laughing. "I have no idea what are you talking about, Director," she said cheerfully. "This place is usually so noisy and bustling that no-one notices a single person's actions. We're accustomed to it that people are in a rush, raise voices, bump into each other or scatter the food. There's no need to be bothered, really. I don't know what you would have to do, Director, in order to draw attention and cause a scandal here," she added cordially. "Maybe if you broke all plates, one after another, or threw the cutlery on your colleagues."

Law shivered at such a vision. He would have to be in a very bad shape to do things like that. No, he would have to turn into someone else, which wasn't likely. "But in case my behaviour offended someone," he added, although such a diligence seemed somewhat stupid to him, "please, let everyone know I regret it."

Merry sparks were still in the woman's eyes, but she nodded, so he wished her a pleasant day and headed for the gynaecology. He started today's surgeries from a pregnant woman or, rather, her unborn child with a serious genetic disorder that would lead do death during infancy. Then, he had two little patients on the paediatric ward: a four-year-old girl with spinal muscular atrophy and a six-years-old boy with neurofibromatosis. On the oncology, he cured a middle-aged man from an advanced skin cancer that would have killed the patient in the next three months.

It was eight, so after the surgeries, he asked after the resident whom he'd berated in harsh words yesterday. As he learned from the nurses, her name was Salla. He met her in the corridor as she was walking from her office. He was glad she'd decided to come to work... she didn't plan to give up on her medical vocation yet. For her part, however, she nearly panicked upon seeing him. She hunched visibly, which made a strange impression with her height; she was almost as tall as he was. He realised she looked tired and upset, her face was pale - her skin was almost white in contrast with the dark hair she had tied in a ponytail on the top of her head - and now she turned even paler. Her irises grew wide as she stared at him frightened; her eyes seemed completely black now.

Before she managed to speak, he said, "I'm sorry for my behaviour yesterday, Salla."

The young woman blinked; she couldn't have seen it coming. Rather, she'd expected another scolding or even a dismissal, seeing a hospital director in front of her office the first thing in the morning, and after he'd savaged her the previous day. Law thought he was really a cruel man if he provoked such reactions in his co-workers.

"I had a very bad day, although it's no excuse," he added when she still wouldn't say anything. "I'm glad you work in this hospital, and I hope you will con-... Hey, you're all right?"

Salla collapsed on the wall as if she was about to faint, which didn't happen, but he managed to catch her anyway. He looked around and saw two chairs a few metres away. He helped her to walk there and seated her down; then, he waved at a nurse. "Dr Salla is sick," he explained. "Take care of her."

The resident looked at him in confusion.

"If you want, you can take the day off," he announced.

She nodded and licked her lips. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Take care of yourself," he muttered and evacuated from the ward.

He hoped that the woman would resolve doubts in case the people wondered if he was the reason for her indisposition... even though it was actually true. He realised he felt above all very stupid. Nevertheless, he couldn't become discouraged by what had just happened; he had to continue as before. He walked two floors down, to the gynaecology, to find the next victim of his moodiness. The nurse in the station informed him that the doctors were having a morning brief, and he asked her about the unlucky intern's name. When he entered the conference room, all heads turned towards him, also Ikkaku's. Upon seeing him, she squinted her eyes, but the rest of people seemed uneasy. Well, a sudden appearance of a hospital director was never a good sign...

"I interrupt you only for a moment," he said from the door and looked at the resident, who was sitting by the chief doctor. "I'd like to apologise to Dr Ulka for my yesterday's behaviour and-"

Ikkaku burst out laughing. "Law, that's quite a feat... People are never bored around you," she called merrily.

"Actually, I should apologise to you as well," he said.

"Fine, fine. Apology accepted," she replied and snorted again before patting the younger doctor sitting next to her. "Ulka, say something."

The intern had managed to hide herself behind her notebook; now a pair of light eyes glanced from behind it. "Apology accepted," she mumbled.

"I can't wait to read about it in the next issue of the bulletin. 'Our respected Director walked around the hospital, offering a public apology to the workers'," Ikkaku said and laughed again, followed by several colleagues. "I bet people will think that All Fools' day came two months earlier this year. I wouldn't have believed it myself," she added. "Law, you really made my day."

Law didn't comment, but, unexpectedly, he felt like smiling himself. Other doctors seemed amused, too. Well, it was far better effect than the one he'd got on oncology. "It's not going to happen a-"

"Fine, get going," Ikkaku urged him, waving her hand. "We're busy here. Have a nice day! You're sweet."

"Have a nice day," Law muttered and turned to leave. In the corridor, he could hear Ikkaku burst out laughing again, and smiled to himself. He came to the conclusion he preferred it when people were amused by his untypical behaviour, not distressed.

He had one more treatment to perform now, so he didn't waste time, as there were also two surgeries on the operating theatre to attend to. This patient was a young man suffering from treatment-resistant epilepsy. He was currently under the influence of powerful medication that de facto was keeping him in asleep, otherwise he would have constant seizures. He'd developed epilepsy after being treated for a brain cancer, but Law was far from criticising other doctors for their decisions. Removing the cancer had been the only right solution - it had saved the man's life - so no-one had made a mistake, and fortunately the Ope Ope no Mi existed to remove all side effects of the therapy. Law restored the patient's nervous system to balance - among others, he rebuilt the cavity in the brain tissue - although he was aware that the final effect could be assessed only after a few days observation. Still, he was positive about the recovery.

He went to the main hall, ready to go down to the operating theatre, when his eyes caught the board with the name of the ward on the opposite end. He stopped and glanced at the clock on the wall; he had almost fifteen minutes. He pressed his lips in a thin line, then sighed softly and approached the door next to the entrance to the psychiatry. He knocked and put his hands in his pockets.

He sensed only one person inside, and he assumed it was Clione. He was right; the door opened, showing the head of the psychiatry department himself, nicely dressed and all. Clione was looking like always, and yet his sight evoked some unpleasant emotion that Law didn't want to analyse now.

"Law... What brings you here?" Clione asked and then frowned. "If it's about Rosapelo, then I'm afraid-"

"No," Law shook his head. "I wanted to apologise for yesterday," he muttered.

Clione blinked. "To who?"

"To you!" Law retorted annoyed.

"You did nothing to apologise to me for," Clione stated in a calm voice.

Law suppressed another sigh. "What was it? 'The bad side of being a psychiatrist is that you can't get mad at people because you understand their reasons for doing everything', right?" he asked under his breath.

Clione smiled lightly. "Something like that," he replied serenely. "But you really did nothing to apologise. Actually, I feel like thanking you because recently you've been coming here more often."

"And it makes you happy?" Law asked, although he hadn't planned to.

"You have to ask? Of course it makes me happy!" the psychiatrist assured him. "For whom do you think I dress up like this every day?" he added in a voice that Law could never tell if he was joking or being serious.

He couldn't get rid of that unpleasant feeling that had overcome him a moment ago. He should feel relieved because Clione was just like always and seemed to not bear a grudge against him for their yesterday's confrontation, and yet, for some reason, he felt even more depressed, as if there were some weight upon his chest. If he'd known it would be like this, he wouldn't have come here, he thought angrily.

"What happened?" the psychiatrist asked after a moment of silence, observing him closely. "Do you want to come in? To talk? I have a few minutes to spare."

Law, however, was still standing where he stood, aware that some thought was trying to break into his mind, a memory of something very recent and yet so bitter that he'd pushed it deep down in his unconsciousness to never recall. "You really don't mind what I said yesterday?" he asked in an emotionless voice, but he had to force himself to speak. "You're not mad?"

Surprise flashed in Clione's eyes, and a vertical line appeared on his forehead. "Did I ever got mad at you?" he asked with another question. "Are you really that upset about it? Law...?"

"I don't know," Law hissed edgily. "Ikkaku said something like that..." He stopped.

"What did she say?" the psychiatrist asked calmly.

Law concentrated on his slate-blue eyes, knowing he didn't want to remember it, but now Ikkaku's words had already come to his mind and he couldn't drive them away. "She said that even you wouldn't put up with me," he said dryly, with challenge, as if he'd been forced to... and felt even worse.

Clione blinked, and the wrinkle between his brows deepened. Then the psychiatrist pressed his lips in an obvious irritation and dragged Law inside his office in a swift move before closing the door.

"You're well aware that at least half of what Ikkaku says should go in one ear and out the other," he said with emphasis, looking Law deep in the eye. "With all respect, she sometimes talks rubbish. Just like this time. I've stayed with you over twenty years already, and I'm going to stay at least twice as much," he declared. "Never doubt it. I'm your friend, and I have no intention to give up on that friendship. I'm not going anywhere, if that's what you fear." He smiled. "You would have to fire me... but I'd probably stay and camp in front of the main door anyway."

But that answer didn't put Law at ease as much as he wished; he didn't feel like smiling, either. He averted his eyes and looked outside the window, although he didn't really see what was there. His heart was beating fast, and he had to muster all his control to stay where he was, for he felt like running away. He had no idea what he was doing here... and what it was he really wanted.

"Law," Clione spoke again, and this time there was some caution to his words, "I know you don't like it when I psychoanalyse you... so I'm only going to ask. Does it have something to do with what you said yesterday? About feeling you're a bad person?"

Law said nothing, although it probably was exactly that.

"You're free to feel how you want," the psychiatrist went on, "but I don't think anyone considers you to be a bad person. It's rather the opposite. If it were so, people from all around the world wouldn't be driven towards you, both patients and professionals."

"What they are driven towards is the Ope Ope no Mi," Law replied, and his dignity was laughing at him for such a fall. "Towards this hospital, where the best medicine is practiced."

Clione shook his head. "No, you're completely wrong," he stated flatly.

"Tell me, who would I be if not for the Ope Ope no Mi? What good would I be? Who would like to hang around me?" Law asked, glancing at him furtively before averting his gaze again.

He was pathetic. Had he really come here to pour his heart out? What did he really expect? Wise answers and comfort? Sure, a psychiatrist was the best choice for getting those, but still... Or could it be that he was unscrupulously taking advantage of Clione's feelings, for he needed his assurance...? No, it wasn't that.

"Well, _I_ would, for starters," Clione replied, shrugging. "And I'm certain that most of your friends would too, including Ikkaku. For us, you aren't any 'Doctor Law', just 'Law'. So, if it sets your mind at ea-"

"According to Ikkaku, you wouldn't even date me," Law interrupted him, although he hadn't considered himself someone to speak such words just fifteen... five minutes... five seconds ago, and he had never planned to do it.

Clione's reaction was as powerful as his own surprise. The psychiatrist took two steps back and stared at him for a longer while, completely stupefied. Law felt worse and worse with every passing second, although he no longer knew what was the main cause of it: his own words, Ikkaku's words... or maybe Clione's answer he was awaiting like judgement.

Finally, the psychiatrist shook his head and raised one hand in an overly dramatic move. "Wait a moment, just wait..." he said. "It seems to me this conversation went on a level I have yet to grasp. Did you just use a word 'date'? And in regard to the two of us? Law, is it really you? No-one replaced you? Maybe you have fever? Or maybe you overworked yourself again, and it's your stress coming out?"

"Stop clowning around," Law snarled, looking everywhere else but the psychiatrists and wondering how to get out of this crap... No, how to make the world normal again. And despite it all, his heart just wouldn't slow down, for he didn't want it to be something one could just laugh off, even if laughing it off would be the safest option.

"Then, you didn't come here to confess to me?" he heard Clione's calm voice.

"To hell, no! Ugh!" He lowered his head and ran both hands through his hair in frustration. "I'm leaving. Let's pretend this conversation never ha-"

He didn't finish, for that moment Clione hugged him tight and pressed his cheek to his cheek, and Law didn't even manage to react upon smelling the faint scent of perfume.

"Law, Law. I love you, and you know it," the psychiatrist softly, and his voice was tender, compassionate and sad. "What Ikkaku said... She should have saved herself that remark... even if she were right, damn it. But you understood it wrong way. She probably understands it wrong way, too. I would go on a date or two with you, maybe even five would happen... and maybe we'd even have a passionate affair... Only it would never work, Law. But not because you're a bad man, for it's not true, so don't think poorly of yourself, no-one wants it." Clione embraced him even tighter. "Oh, Law... I'm your friend, and I want to stay it, but I know well that it's not me you need. No matter how much I tried, I wouldn't be able to give you what you desire... I wouldn't be able to fill that emptiness in your heart."

He stepped back, although he was still having his hands on Law's shoulder. His eyes were glistening. "But don't feel like I reject you, okay?" he said with emphasis. "I will never, never reject you. I'll always support you, if you only need it."

Law nodded. although it required his all strength, for that was how he really felt: rejected, and it was such a nasty feeling he would do anything to cut himself off from it. Nevertheless, he knew Clione was right. And he knew he had to cling to that cold logic, for nothing else could help him now.

The clock in the hall struck nine. "I must go," he said.

Clione's fingers clenched his shoulders as if comforting him. "Law, you do know that there's someone for you, too?" the psychiatrist asked. "That special someone who needs only you and who you need."

Law shook his head. He didn't believe that.

The fingertips dug deeper into his flesh. "Do not lose hope, Law," Clione said with emphasis, penetrating him with the gaze of his light eyes. "There's always hope."

Law focused his eyes on him. It seemed to him he'd heard it before... in a previous life... And that memory brought another: that his unspoken hopes had been answered indeed, giving him the greatest joy... only to take it back before he'd managed to understand it. He lifted one hand and grabbed the shirt on his chest; he didn't want to feel this pain, not today when he was feeling miserable enough. "I don't think I can count on it. I already exhausted my lifetime supply of happiness," he said dully.

Clione raised his brows. "At a very early stage, apparently," he said half-ironically, half-sympathetically. "I don't remember ever seeing you happy."

"That's true, you didn't," Law replied without looking at him. "I must go," he repeated and took a step back. He really had to, for he know that staying here wouldn't be good for anyone.

Finally, Clione let go of him. "I'll be here," he said in a calm voice and opened the door to let him out. "I'll be here."

Law nodded and exited. In the hall, however, he turned around and looked at the psychiatrist, frowning. "Don't count me out yet," he asked, having no idea why he said that. "Maybe one day..." He stopped.

"Maybe one day you'll reach the point where I will suffice?" Clione guessed, and Law decided it sounded as bad as he'd thought it would. The psychiatrist patted him on the back. "Let's hope there's no such need. But if it puts you at ease... I can wait," he promised, smiling brightly.

But Law didn't believe that smile and couldn't bear with it. He had to leave here in order to not lose even that little of balance he'd managed to find after yesterday. He headed to the lift.

"Law!" he heard behind his back. He turned and saw Clione giving him a thumb up. "You're a good man. Believe a psychiatrist. The psychiatrists are always right."

Law waved him goodbye and pressed the button. Waiting for the lift to come, he looked over his shoulder and muttered, "If you say it hundred time, then maybe I'll believe it."

Clione smiled. "That's how psychotherapy works."

"If I decide I need it, I'll know where to come."

"I'll be waiting," the psychiatrist replied cheerfully.

When the lift door closed after him, Law took a deep breath. He realised that, after all, he could still trust that smile... and be comforted by it. He snorted but couldn't drive away that thought, that knowledge that hade been sticking to him like a dogma: sometimes the smiles could make wonders. It was undoubtedly a miracle that this day didn't seem a complete failure to him.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

It didn't take long for Law to wish that day had never happened. He didn't even want to think of the events he'd participated in - on top of it, willingly. The very memory made him feel awful. He was left with the feeling he'd behaved completely, _totally_ unlike him, the greatest embarrassment being the scene in Clione's office. The worst was how he'd exposed himself before the psychiatrist. Sure, the psychiatrist _was_ the best choice for a person to expose oneself before, but Law had never considered himself to be someone in need of such a specialist... or anyone to confide in. No, he didn't need to confide, in the first place.

Deep inside, he realised that if he started to think in details of what he'd done, said or heard, he would feel much worse. Such analysis would undoubtedly lead to unpleasant conclusions about his life... and then he would need a psychiatrist indeed, while it was the last thing he wanted. So he preferred to stay at the safe stage of reproaching himself over his own stupidity, being overly amazed at his own behaviour, and blaming the external factors. After all, _something_ had provoked him into acting that way. _Something_ had thrown him off balance, resulting in behaviour that was unlike him and that he would have never expected of himself. He knew well what it was... or, rather, _who_: a twelve-years-old kid called Rosapelo, who was at present occupying the bed in the Seven and who had brought chaos in the daily life of the Corazon Memorial Hospital... No, just in the daily life of Trafalgar Law.

All in all, it was the best to forget everything about the psychiatry ward with its patients and the head doctor, and not let his thought even stray on the seventh floor, at least until he would have to go there, which was fortunately no sooner than the end of the month. It wasn't entirely his fault that he'd got into this story, and yet it had cost him too much nerves and resulted in foul mood, to say nothing of the bad things he'd done to other people. What had happened couldn't be undone, and, in fact, it wasn't his turn to solve the problem, only Clione's and his team's. Law had enough work, enough things to concentrate on so that he could 'forget' that unpleasant affair, push it down into the deepest layers of his subconsciousness from where it couldn't resurface. The hospital hardly ever experienced the lack of patients, and medicine was _still_ something Law could fully focus on.

He guessed it wouldn't go so smoothly if not for the fact that Clione hadn't shown his face around at all. Was it a coincidence or a deliberate action, that Law didn't know, but nothing could suit him better. Maybe, after what had happened in his office, the psychiatrist too had decided that it would be the best if they had some time apart. He _must_ have realised that Law couldn't feel comfortable after all that, right? In any case, Clione's characteristic figure didn't even glimpse out of a corner of his eye, not that Law particularly looked out for him.

His luck lasted the whole three days.

On the fourth day, in the evening, after the new admissions were over and he was doing the paper work in his office, he heard a knocking on the door. Upon his answering 'Come in', the door was slowly opened, revealing none other than the head of psychiatry. Law suppressed a sigh, preparing for the surge of negative emotions... yet it didn't happen. Apparently, he'd managed to calm down after the upset from a few days ago - he knew from experience that a few days were sometimes enough, indeed - or maybe he just couldn't be angry with Clione. Probably both.

"Sorry for interrupting you. May I take you a moment?" Clione asked, and there was untypical hesitation to both his words and the general attitude.

"Sure," Law replied, putting down his glasses and increasing the lighting.

The psychiatrist sat at the edge of the couch and clasped his hands on his lap. "I have a problem with a patient. With Pelo. He's not recovering," he said outright.

_Now_ Law did feel annoyed, as the boy's face glanced before his eyes, just as he'd seen it the last time. A living dead. A lifeless doll. He wasn't surprised that Clione had a problem. "Discharge him," he said reluctantly.

Clione frowned, and his eyes were filled with resented astonishment. "Stop telling stupid jokes," he snorted. "We're treating him."

Law pressed his lips in a thin line. He didn't like this conversation already. "What can I do about it?" he asked with an obvious displeasure.

The psychiatrist gave him a serious look. "Could you see him?" he asked. "I think we need your help."

Now it was Law's turn to frown. "Hey, you know that I don't use the Ope Ope no Mi in the depression patients," he reminded in a menacing voice.

Clione shook his head, making his long earrings tingle. "I'm not talking about the Ope Ope no Mi. I just want you to... to talk to him."

Law straightened in his chair and gave the psychiatrist a disbelieving look. "But you ordered me to keep away from him," he reminded edgily. "You said that it would be better if I didn't see him. And you were probably right," he added under his breath.

Clione glared at him. "Damn it, Law!" he called quietly in exasperation. "Am I some kind of an oracle that is never wrong? You know well that our job requires that we're flexible and can admit our mistakes. Well, actually, I don't think I was mistaken, that moment..." He shook his head again. "I only think that _now_ he can benefit from your visit, not the contrary."

Law leaned back and gave the psychiatrist a hostile look. They stared at each other in silence for a longer while. Clione's gaze was hard, uncompromising, the previous hesitation was gone, as if he was certain he was right. Law clenched his teeth and looked at the window; it was getting dark outside. He really didn't want to do it. During those three days, he'd managed to once again regain the psychical balance, having cast the kid off from his mind. He didn't want to be bothered with him again, for it would mean the return of his bad mood... and made it possible that he started to act strange once more. The very thought of seeing that boy again evoked a strong objection in him, and Law didn't use to do things he found revolting. As a free man, he had the right to say no...

But he was a hospital director and a chief doctor here, which obliged to something. He couldn't dismiss a colleague who needed a consult, and only because he didn't like the case. It would be first unethical and second egoistic. The personnel knew - should know - that Trafalgar Law offered medical help whenever needed. If Clione was asking him for that, he wasn't doing it on whim, only because of his patient's welfare, and Law couldn't pretend he didn't know that.

He sighed. "What's happening with him?" he asked, looking at the head of the Seven again.

"Nothing."

"What do you mean 'nothing'?"

"Nothing," Clione repeated, shaking his head. "He's lying in the bed, speaks to no-one, doesn't eat nor drink, but he also doesn't object to any procedure. We had to put him on a drip and give him a catheter. He's conscious and probably aware of his surroundings, at least to some extent, but he stays out of touch and doesn't respond. Well, his condition is like it was when you saw him the last time. Of course, there's no neurological issues. We got an MRI and all other tests," he described.

"Sounds to me like a classic case of psychotic depression, doesn't it?" Law made a diagnosis. "Why won't you give him the ECT? 'Cause I guess the medication is not working...?"

Clione nodded. "Not at all. Well, I agree that it looks like a psychotic depression, he's obviously catatonic... But we also know that there is a specific factor responsible for his condition: namely, the death of his mother."

"Reactive psychosis or not, the ECT should work," Law muttered. "How long can you keep him on a drip? It's going to develop into a life-threatening condition."

"It's our last resort," the psychiatrist agreed.

"Then, what do you want from me?" Law asked less politely he'd intended. "If there's no contact with him, how can _I_ help?"

Clione straightened on the couch and gave him a serious look, and Law prepared for an argument he wouldn't like at all. The psychiatrist sighed and stared at his own knees. "It may look like I'm clutching at a straw, but..." He looked up again. "Law, when you saw him... he responded to you. It's been his _only_ reaction in all those days. Believe me, the only one. Maybe it was a pure coincidence, something that won't happen again... But it still doesn't change the fact you're the only person he'd come into a contact with, even if short. I don't want to dismiss it, to ignore it, for it may be pretty significant," he said with emphasis. "That's why I ask you to see him once again. If I'm wrong and it won't work, then I promise to never bother you again with this case," he declared.

Law observed him closely for a while. He really didn't like the idea... but he was a doctor; he could understand Clione's point of view. If the case was hopeless, then a doctor would grab every chance to help or make a difference, and psychiatry was a field where even the tiniest detail could be important. And it was true, that the boy had reacted to his presence, had been aware of it. Uninvited, the feeling of triumph that had filled him that moment, returned to him... along with the temptation to experience it once more. If he could made Rosapelo pay attention to him again... then, why shouldn't he try? Trafalgar Law liked challenges, at least medical ones.

"You realise what you're doing?" he mumbled, focusing on the psychiatrist's slate-blue eyes. "You're asking me to cure someone without the Ope Ope no Mi. I haven't done it in... I don't even remember how long."

Clione raised his brows. "Is it something bad?" he asked in astonishment. Then, a wry smile stretched his lips. "But if you find it so embarrassing, we won't tell anyone."

"Very funny," Law retorted, turning his head.

"But I do like your attitude," Clione spoke again, and his voice was still pretty playful. "You said 'cure'. Your optimism really cheers me up."

"It's just a habit of mine," Law dawdled. "You must forgive me that I had forgot how to use the word 'treat'."

"Fine, fine, Doctor I-have-the-Ope-Ope-no-Mi-and-can-cure-any-disease Law. In any case, thanks."

"You'll thank me after I make use of myself," Law grunted, running his fingers through his hair. Then, however, he remembered something and looked at the psychiatrist again. "What if I... get angry at him again?"

Clione reassumed a serious expression. "His condition is so bad that it couldn't get any worse," he said dryly. "Actually, if your words or behaviour, anything... provoked some emotions in him, it would be only desirable. Everything is better than being a living dead... Of course, it doesn't mean you can do whatever you please," he warned.

"You're going to remind me that I broke his arm," Law muttered.

Clione shrugged. "I'm not. Actually, I already forgot about it," he said indifferently; then, however, his gaze became intense again. "I just hope that when you go there and speak to him... you'll be able to get to him."

"I can tell you don't really believe in that psychotic depression..."

"Sure I don't. It's nothing but a reaction to the tragedy he experienced. He lost his mother, had a terrible shock, withdrawn into himself and cut off from everything. He gave up on everything. Can we be surprised?" Clione asked rhetorically. "But the truth is we must bring him back to life. We must make him realise that living on is the only right choice, no matter how bad he feels."

"And of course you decided that I'm the best candidate for that? That I would be able to put myself in his shoes and reach to him?" Law threw before he managed to bite his tongue. "No, forget what I said."

The psychiatrist fixed his eyes to scrutinise him for a longer while. Annoyed, Law pushed out the chair and got up to approach the window, although he could see nothing outside. His heart was beating too fast, and he had an unpleasant sensation in his chest. He felt like cursing. He could still feel the gaze of Clione on his back, and he couldn't look back. The silence prolonged.

"Law, you do realise that you can't talk to a psychiatrist that way...?" he finally heard the quiet voice, and the warning in it. "Are you doing it on purpose?"

"I'm not doing it on purpose."

"Then it's your subconsciousness," Clione stated. "It wants to throw out what you desperately try to forget."

"I'm going to throw out. You, out of here. I have a full control over my subconsciousness," Law retorted, turning around and glaring at the psychiatrist.

Clione's eyebrows went up so high they almost touched his hairline, and then a mocking smile curved his lips. "It was the funniest thing I've heard this week," he replied. "I'd love to say, 'Keep thinking that', but my psychiatric ethics doesn't let me. Anyway," he rose from the couch, "as you noticed, I should go already. Thanks for hearing me out," he added sincerely, and this time his smile was that familiar, warm sign of affection.

Law nodded and sat down behind the desk. "I'll come tomorrow," he said, running his schedule in his thought. "I should have a moment around half past eleven."

"Good. I'm really grateful.

Law waved his hand and put his glasses on. "I told you, you're going to thank me if there's any use of me," he muttered, grabbing the chart of the patient he'd worked on previously.

"Okay. Then, see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," Law replied... and then, despite himself, he called, "Clione...?"

The psychiatrist turned to him. "Yes?"

"I'm not doing it on purpose," Law replied, looking him in the eye. "I just..." he started and stopped, as if he waited for Clione to finish the sentence for him, like many times before.

The psychiatrist, however, was staring at him intently. "Just...?" he said.

Law shook his head. He didn't knew how to finish... or didn't want to know. "What do you mean that I shouldn't talk to you that way?" he asked instead, having the vague impression he couldn't win this fight.

Now it was astonishment that flashed in Clione's eyes. "When you throw me such scraps of information... if it can be even considered the information... then you're just asking me to psychoanalyse you," the psychiatrist answered directly. "You seem to _want_ me to get everything out of you, despite shrinking from it at the same time and always move away. And I, of course, would love to get all your secrets out of you, and thus I must be very careful to never try it because..." he hesitated, "because I don't want to risk our friendship. I must wait until you want to tell me everything _yourself_, if you want it one day," he explained. "But sometimes it seems to me that you deliberately tease and tempt me because you know perfectly well about my weakness," he added reluctantly and tucked his hair behind left ear.

"I'm not doing it on purpose," Law repeated again... and then asked himself if it was really so.

Clione nodded slowly, but something flickered in his eyes, and for a moment he seemed pretty desperate. "I'm not an angel, Law," he warned. "Even I have my limits."

Law sighed. "All this would be much easier it it were just an affair," he muttered without thinking.

The psychiatrist fell silent for a longer while. Then he closed his eyes, opened them and took a deep breath. "Law, please, don't flirt with me," he said beggingly and shook his head. "It's not like you... But maybe it's my fault; recently, I've been bothering you and talking only strange things, so it's no wonder you start to imagine who knows what," he added in such a tone that he might as well try to convince himself. "Maybe I should go to some congress and vanish from your eyes for some time... Ah, right! Bepo could return already. He is a haven of peace and a supporting pillar for you. With him, you act perfectly normally."

"Sorry for being such a nuisance," Law grunted and leaned over the medical record. "And being good only for Bepo."

Clione moaned. "On all sea gods, I'm out of here. I really feel like kissing you now and don't want you to punch me in the face."

Those words sobered Law. He looked up to stare at the psychiatrist, who had opened the door. "I'm sorry," he said seriously, realising his own cruelty, for his thoughtlessness couldn't be called anything else. "It wasn't fair of me."

Clione glanced over his shoulder and smiled wryly. "If you _absolutely_ want to, we can go on date on your next day off," he said ironically, although, knowing him, he could be dead serious. "It falls right between the Valentine's Day and my birthday."

Then he nodded and left. Law, stunned, spent the next five minutes trying to convince himself it had been a joke.

Despite that unexpected ending, he realised he was relieved, and it took him another while to understand why. He'd probably feared that, after their last talk, something would change in their relation: namely, the psychiatrist would start to avoid him. But Clione treated him just like before, just like always... It seemed he really didn't count on anything in relation to Law and settled with their friendship... although it was also pretty certain that, had Law allowed him, their relationship could go to an entirely new level, hmm... But no, he mustn't think of such things. What mattered was that nothing had changed between them, and it was favourable that it never changed.

Law remembered what Clione had said the other day, 'It would never work'. For some reason, he felt twinge in his chest and some objection... All the same, he _didn't intend to find out_ if the psychiatrist was right about it. Too much he feared it was exactly the case.

He ruffled his hair in frustration. It was that moment that his psyche, as if it had a life on its own, started to make problems... Definitely, it was high time that he forbade himself considering those topics, which he did. His last thought, as he resumed his paper work, was that Bepo really could return already.

* * *

The next day Law discovered that he was back to that stage from four years ago, when he completely couldn't understand his own behaviour. Now, however, sweeping everything under the carpet and removing from his thought wouldn't do. A single stupid thing could happen to anyone, but in this case it had happened twice already... and there was no guarantee it wouldn't happen again, which Law didn't want.

Why, on earth, did he keep saying such embarrassing things to Clione, ones that he would gladly wipe off his memory? The truth was he'd been _flirting_ with the psychiatrist indeed, no matter how retarded it sounded, and he was under the impression that he'd done it seriously, which was ridiculous in and of itself. If he joked, there would be no case whatsoever - after all, Clione had been flirting with him since ever, and only as fun, so it wouldn't be anything strange if Law responded in the same way - but no. It bothered him and made him wonder about the reasons for that. Maybe it was Ikkaku's words that no-one would put up with him that had hurt him too much, had hit his self-esteem too hard... And later, when Clione had rejected him, too... maybe Law had wanted to show them both that they were wrong? Maybe he'd wanted to do things out of spite, and hence the way he'd been treating the head psychiatrist now?

But it was completely unfair to Clione, for Law knew perfectly that he regarded the psychiatrist as a friend only. If he just wished to prove himself he was capable of staying in a relationship, he couldn't do it at the expense of the man who had much deeper feelings towards him, that was obvious. What distressed him the most, however, was the very iidea/i that he might - wanted to? - enter a relationship with another person. If it really was so... then when had it started? Until very recently, he'd determinedly removed such thoughts from his mind and hadn't even considered them; no, he hadn't even let them come on his mind. Trafalgar Law needed only his work, such had been the situation for many, many years. Had it suddenly begun to change? But he didn't want it, he didn't want any change in his life filled with working and with the Corazon Memorial Hospital; he wanted it to remain like that until the very end. Work was his absolute footing, and he could have trust in both medicine and his own skills. On the other hand, the relationships meant uncertainty and multidimensional fear, while those were emotions that he'd been avoiding as strongly as possible. No, there was no place for interpersonal bonds in his life, at least not those deep, and no superficial desire or momentary whim could affect his policy.

Anyway, it was high time to finish with that ambiguous behaviour that, just like Clione had pointed out, was so unlike him. Law decided he would no longer let himself be drawn into that game or provoked into speaking that frivolous tone and juggling words that could be interpreted not always in an innocent manner. It was obvious that something like that couldn't end well and benefit anyone; quite the contrary, it would probably lead to someone's harm, and Law didn't want to harm himself nor others.

The only positive of the whole affair was that he'd forgotten to be stressed by the meeting with Rosapelo. Only now, half past eleven, as he entered the Seven, he felt slightly nervous. He was anxious he would lose it again and say something he shouldn't. Well, Clione had said that it wouldn't do any harm anyway, but Law would rather avoid making scenes. In his mind, he repeated several times that Rosapelo wasn't to blame, in order to strengthen his empathy... but he knew from the experience that it still couldn't be insufficient or would have no effect whatsoever. That kid, without realising it himself, just had that ability to upset Law. Clione would undoubtedly be able to explain it, if Law wished to know the cause for that... but he didn't. What was in his head belonged only to him, and he didn't plan to share it with anybody; it applied to what was in his heart as well.

The head psychiatrist emerged from the nurse station; he'd been clearly waiting for him. "I'm glad you came," he said with a smile.

Law nodded to greet him. "Before that... I'd like to have a word with you, in private," he muttered.

"Come, the conference room is free now."

When the door closed behind them, Law looked the psychiatrist in the eye. "I sorry for yesterday," he said straight out. "You were right, I haven't been myself recently. I promise it won't happen again. I want our relationship to remain purely collegial, okay?"

"In other words... no dates?" Clione replied cheerfully... too cheerfully.

Law nodded. "That's right, no dates. No... nothing."

The psychiatrist smiled. "Fine. It would be the best," he said in a calm voice. "I'm sorry if-"

"Don't apologise," Law interrupted him. "It's me who should apologise."

"In that case, let's leave it at that, all right?" Clione suggested.

Law took a deep breath. "All right."

"Then, we're off to Pelo," the psychiatrist decided vigorously and opened the door.

Following him into the corridor, Law wondered if Clione ever felt depressed... He probably did; he was just as good in hiding his emotions as Law himself, at least. Feeling guilty, however, wouldn't help anything. The matter had been dealt with, and their relationship had been clarified. There wouldn't be any misunderstanding... or futile hopes for anything. That would be the best, he repeated the psychiatrist's words to comfort himself.

This time, there was not much to look at in the ward, for the patients were occupied with lunch. Most of them preferred to eat in their rooms, but at least several wanted to have meals with others in the common space. Actually, Law realised he would eat something, too, but today he had to settle with a salad taken to the consultations.

"I have some fifteen minutes," he informed.

"Well, it's enough to make sure if the treatment would have any result," Clione replied, shrugging.

"Poultice of Trafalgar Law," Law said under his breath.

The psychiatrist glanced at him and smiled, before pressing the handle and entering the room. Law followed him, gathering his strength to confront the person he'd never planned to see again. It was just fifteen minutes, he told himself, closing the door.

Just like before, the room was filled with the sunlight, but this time a nurse was sitting by the bed; upon seeing them, she rose from a chair and greeted Law. As for the patient himself... _Rosapelo_ didn't react in any way. He was lying in the bed completely still, his eyes were staring blankly, and only regular move of his chest indicated he was alive. There was a drip connected to his left elbow pit, supplying him with the nutrition. Of course, it was nowhere near the amount that the boy of his age needed. Law realised it'd been a whole week since their previous meeting. Since then, Rosapelo had clearly lost some weight. His face was thin, his cheeks sullen, and his arms lying on the cover seemed to be two sticks. If Law were the one to decide, he would've started the electroconvulsive therapy long ago...

But it was Clione who supervised the boy's treatment, and he was of the opinion that they shouldn't use that method yet. Law didn't use to interfere with the decisions of the psychiatrists, and he fully trusted Clione's judgement. If the head of the Seven believed that Trafalgar Law could help, they had to figure if he was right.

"Pelo, I brought Dr Law, just like I told you before," Clione spoke, showing Law the chair in the same time. "I asked him to talk with you."

Law sat down, observing the boy closely. Nothing indicated that Rosapelo had heard the psychiatrist: no twitch of an eyelid, no move of a muscle. For his part, Clione didn't seem to have expected anything. The real trial started now... also for him, Law realised.

What should he say? What words to use in order to wake up that boy who had withdrawn into himself? He hadn't prepared for this meeting... Well, first he should probably remind the patient who he was. "Hi, Pelo," he began. "Do you remember me? I'm Trafalgar Law. I treated you before... Ah, you can't remember me doing so, but we did talk a few times when you were conscious, too."

No reaction, which disappointed him a bit. But if it had been so easy, Clione wouldn't have a problem. Law just had to keep trying.

"I see that you have no fractures this time, it's good," he spoke again and smiled, although it came out pretty weak. "But I can't say that you look well. I heard you haven't been eating recently. You should eat otherwise..." He stopped. He'd wanted to say, 'Otherwise you won't recover', but that boy didn't seem like _wanting_ to recover. "Otherwise you won't be able to come off the drip. And it's a pain to be on it. For example, you can't play football, which I remember you like."

Silence. Law could as well talk to the wall. Clione had stated that the boy was conscious to some extent, but Law found it difficult to believe. Rosapelo's mind seemed completely closed, detached from all external stimuli and information that normally reached a person through their senses. Did the boy really see or heard anything? His gaze wasn't focused on anything that existed in this room. Law felt like causing a loud, sudden noise - clap his hands or stomp his feel - but it probably had been tried already.

He activated his Devil Fruit. Rosapelo's heart rate and breathing were in a full resting norm; he could see it with a naked eye, for the boy was so cachectic that the pulse could be observed on his carotid artery. His vitals weren't affected by Law's words either, just as if he hadn't heard anything indeed. However, with the Ope Ope no Mi...

"You're not going to use Counter Shock, are you?" Clione asked with the slightest shade of suspicion, not moving from his spot in the foot of the bed.

Law shook his head. "Trust me," he replied. Actually, he would gladly use that technique, but now he needed the Ope Ope no Mi merely to assess the boy's cortex activity. "Pelo," he muttered. "I really hoped you would talk with me..."

His heart beat faster when he noticed a reaction in the auditory area. It was weak but evident. Then, Clione had been right, and the boy was really aware of his surroundings, at least on a neurological level... Of course, even if his brain heard the words, it still didn't mean that those words reached his mind; nevertheless, the chances to make contact beyond doubt existed...! Law just had to keep doing; he still had several minutes.

"Pelo, I hoped you would talk with me," he repeated, and this time his voice was stronger, and he could observe the reaction in the auditory cortex again. "The last time I visited you, you didn't ignore me, remember? I remember it very well. Actually... we didn't finish that conversation," he said and grew silent as his optimism suddenly dropped.

They hadn't finished that conversation because, instead of talking, Law had got mad and started to accuse Rosapelo. Instead of grab and hold that thread of contact, he'd let it be broken. It was with a very unpleasant feeling that he thought he may have missed the only chance to reach the boy. He really had managed to make contact, but it was a _whole week ago_... and a week is a terribly long time for one's condition to deteriorate.

He clenched his teeth. Knowledge that he might have contributed to worsening in his patient's condition, while it should be the opposite, stung like hell. It didn't matter that they still had the ECT in reserve; it didn't matter that the boy would sooner or later recover. What mattered now was that Trafalgar Law, the greatest doctor in the world, had done something he should have never done: had_ harmed a patient_. No explaining would do; he had no right to justify his actions. What he'd done was substantially wrong.

"I'm sorry," he said and thought that recently he'd been only apologising. "I'm sorry, Pelo. I treated you badly, although you didn't deserve it. I'm sorry," he repeated helplessly.

That was how he felt now: completely helpless. If saying 'sorry' could solve all problems, there would be no unhappy people in the world.

"I'm really sorry," he kept talking, though, for what else could he do? "For what I said. For all those thoughtless and cruel words you heard from me. I'd like you to be angry with me... 'cause it's not enough that I'm angry with myself. Can you hear me, Pelo? You should be mad at me, I deserve it."

He pressed his lips, but the words couldn't be stopped; they wanted to burst out of his throat as that hot emotion welled up in him: a mixture of shame, remorse, compassion... and desire to save what he hadn't managed to ruin yet. He knew at least as much that he was no longer speaking to relieve himself, show himself in a better light, or extort forgiveness. No, that stage was already past him. What drove him now was just a desperate need to help.

"Tell me what should I do in order to compensate you," he asked in a pressing voice. "Nothing I do can make those words disappear... but maybe you will feel a bit better. And I... I want you to feel better. Not as a doctor, but as a... as a man. So let me know what it is that you want from me... would you?"

He lowered his head, swallowing down a heart-breaking apprehension that Rosapelo might no longer want anything from him, which would be perfectly understandable.

"I'm sorry I didn't listen you out that day. I promise I will never push you away, so please... Tell me that it's still not too late," he whispered, clutching his fingers on the fabric of his trousers, and bit his lips. His throat clenched, and suddenly he wasn't able to keep talking.

In the silence that fell he could hear the nurse breath in through her nose; her mouth was covered with one hand. She couldn't have expected such words of the hospital director... and she probably wished that his good will was answered, for the silence was like a blow, cruel in its emptiness... devoid of hope for any sign of life.

"Enough, Law," Clione said in a soft voice, putting one hand on his shoulder. "You did your best. Tomorrow, we'll start the ECT. Thanks for trying. I'm really grateful."

Law shook his head and looked up at him. The psychiatrist knitted his brows in surprise, and Law knew what had made him do to so. He smiled wider... Actually, he felt like smiling for the rest of his life, and it was so wonderful, so great that it completely soothed all anxiety and agitation of the previous moments.

"Law...?" Clione asked, hesitating, and then his eyes grew wide. "You don't mean..."

Law nodded and looked at Rosapelo again. The boy was half-sitting, half-lying in the bed, unmoving, and nothing had changed in his outward appearance, yet... "There was a physiological response."

"Are you sure?" the psychiatrist asked pressingly, and today his scepticism couldn't hurt Law.

"Like my own name," Law answered, getting up from the chair and looking him in the eye. "The Ope Ope no Mi is never wrong about such things."

Clione suddenly seemed ten years younger. He rubbed his forehead, and then put his hands together, nervously clasping his fingers. "It still doesn't mean anything," he said weakly, but Law could tell that his inner optimist wouldn't be silenced.

"I'll make it mean something," he declared; he was still smiling. "I'll come tomorrow," he announced and turned to the boy once more. "I'll be back tomorrow, Pelo, so wait for me," he repeated, staring at still blue eyes, and added in a softer voice, "Thank you."

The boy's pulse accelerated again... and then Rosapelo closed his eyes as if he wished to say goodbye. Law deactivated the Ope Ope no Mi and left the room without looking back. He would come here as soon as tomorrow. As he walked to the consultations, his step was so light it seemed to him he could fly. What lifted him up, however, wasn't triumph or satisfaction, only a shy hope that he'd been forgiven.

Just like always, Clione had been right. Rosapelo didn't need Trafalgar Law as a doctor only a man.

* * *

**A/N.** Hey, I'm waiting for your comments! We are half-way through the story, and I really die to know what you think of it!


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

By evening, Law managed to convince himself that it was mostly about being satisfied with the improvement in his patient's condition. After all, his personal feelings were of hardly any importance, and there was no place for them in a treatment process. Nevertheless, it didn't stop him from smiling every time he remembered how Rosapelo's heart had sped up in response to his words. The boy hadn't completely cut himself off from his surroundings, and it was possible to reach him, even though, Law realised, it would require a lot of work. Clione's little patient really was in a state bordering catatonia, and probably willingly. Undoubtedly, he'd slipped into it consciously and hadn't planned to return from it, at least not at the beginning; it might be that now he no longer _could_ do it. They needed to pull him out of that state, bring him back to the world of living; now that they knew they could _catch_ him, the chances of success had risen substantially.

In the evening, too, Law came to the conclusion that he shouldn't take it so personally. It could be possible that Rosapelo reacted that way to _everyone's_ speech. Apparently, Law had believed in what Clione had said: that he was the only one to bring on Rosapelo's response, but the psychiatrist couldn't monitor the boy's heart rate or other parameters. Well, he could if he put the patient on monitors, but there was no reason for doing so. Law would check it out as soon as tomorrow, and if he found that the boy reacted to other people's voices as well, then there would be no need to keep visiting him; he could be left in the hands of the psychiatrists and their kind.

Somehow, that eventuality didn't make Law as happy as he'd like it to, but he decided not to think about it. Maybe because of that, the next morning, he waked up in a pretty good mood... although he could have overdone showing it, for when he left the gynaecology ward after a morning surgery, he met Ikkaku, who seemed to have chased after him.

"Wow, you're really in a good mood," she said as a greeting, frowning.

"Is it necessary that our every conversation starts like that these days?" Law replied with a sneer.

"You mean, with comments on your mood?" Ikkaku guessed and then shrugged, as if she didn't care much. "It's no conversation. I only came for a minute. My intern was so polite to report that yesterday you'd spent two hours of consultations smiling widely, so I decided I had to see it with my own eyes. And look what we have here. You're going to start humming any moment."

Law snorted. "So, I should probably expect to read about it in the bulletin...?"

"Whatever. I'm glad something good happened to you," Ikkaku said straight, just like she used to, and he knew she was being honest. "Okay, I saw what I wanted, time to get back to work." She patted him on the shoulder, then twirled around to vanish around the corner.

Law smiled wryly and headed for the operating theatre. On his way, he wondered about being 'spied on' all the time. Really, he couldn't even smile without the whole hospital knowing about it the next moment... He hoped that at least in the loo he wasn't watched. Maybe he should sometimes have a glance at that bulletin to make sure no-one wrote a column about him, indeed...?

He tried to imagine what it might contain. 'As we learned from Mrs X, a worker in the hospital canteen, today Director Law's breakfast consisted of two tuna onigiri, shrimp salad, and a cup of a coffee. Mrs X guarantees that he enjoyed his meal a lot. Moreover, Director was glad to know that there would be a fried trout in the lunch offer.' Or, 'Miss Y, a paediatric nurse who was on a shift last night, told us that Director Law wore his usual black shirt and blue jeans. However, she wasn't able to recognise his cologne, which she apologises for. She places the blame for that to her agitation, caused by running into Director in her ward at 5 PM.' Or, 'Director Law has been in a splendid mood since yesterday. The surgery interns Z and Z inform that he was smiling during the afternoon consultation session and didn't scold anyone. Their report is confirmed by several witnesses who happened to meet Director today. To celebrate it, we announce a contest: What could have put our Director in such a good mood? Dear Colleagues, we encourage you to share your ideas with us. The most interesting answers will be published in the next issue, and the winner will get a free lunch coupon to be redeemed in the canteen.'

Law snorted, exiting the lift; he decided he could congratulate himself on his imagination. No, something like that would be absurd... but the very fact it had occurred to him, proved that he felt good today indeed. It was a very pleasant change after the irritation of two previous weeks, one he never wanted to experience again. Nevertheless, he realised that if he entered the operating theatre being all smiles, Shachi and Penguin wouldn't leave him be, while Ikkaku's jibes were already enough; thus, he spared a few second to assume his normal, serious expression that he should safely show to his assistants.

The surgeries went smoothly, and he managed to finish a bit early. Good mood still accompanied him as he went up, and even the realisation he had to do without a normal lunch again, couldn't spoil it. Actually, he didn't even thought of eating as he opened the door to the psychiatric ward; he was filled with enthusiasm prompted by the challenge. He knew he would meet that challenge, for he had means to succeed. Rosapelo's case was different from those Law tended to normally - the primary difference being the fact that treatment wasn't based on the Ope Ope no Mi - so no wonder he approached it with excitement that was rare for him. Even if he found out that Rosapelo didn't need particularly _him_, Law would be the one to discover that the boy was still in contact with his surrounding, could hear other people and react to their speech, weak reaction as it was. He didn't doubt that the specialists from the Seven would be able to take advantage of this discovery and make the little patient recover.

This time, Clione was nowhere to be seen, and there was only a nurse in Rosapelo's room, sitting between the bed and the window. Well, the head psychiatrist was responsible for the whole department; he couldn't focus just on one patient. Then again, Law didn't consider his presence to be essential; if he needed, he would just pass a message.

"Good morning, Pelo," he greeted the boy, who looked just like the previous day, and activated the Ope Ope no Mi. "Do you remember I promised to come again? Here I am."

Rosapelo didn't react, but Law hadn't expected it to happen right away. If the boy had withdrawn deep into his mind, it required more time and effort to break through all barriers erected between him and the rest of world. He pushed out the chair and sat down, waving at the nurse to stay. He came to the ironic conclusion that recently it had been pretty easy and even natural for him to deliberate about human's psyche. Ah, if only he could attribute it to Clione's bad influence...

"I hope you will recover soon," he said, looking at Rosapelo again and smiling. "We all here want to help you, make you feel better. Do you remember it will be spring soon? It's a good time for recovery. The sunlight just works miracles; sometimes you don't even notice it and you start feel better. "He let unspoken that only in the case of maniacs it worked even too well. "This year, February has been spoiling us pretty much. There's no trace left of that freezing cold from the beginning of the month. Almost whole snow has already melted, too. If you look outside, you'll see that the sea unfroze and nothing indicates it's still winter..."

Rosapelo didn't seem interested in the scenery outside. He was sitting and staring at something only he could see. His blue eyes weren't moving, although he did blink with slow frequency. Once more, Law was struck by how skinny the boy was; he was probably losing weight day by day. He needed to be quickly set up and rehabilitated before his condition worsened. That was why Law had come here; there was no time to lose...

However, as he observed the little patient, he felt his ambition vanish, although it'd filled him just a moment ago, along with the zeal and the sense of purpose. They were replaced by something much more simple and yet much more intense. As he looked at the boy's sunk cheeks, his very pale skin and eyes devoid of conscience and life, he was overcome with the very same emotions that meeting with Rosapelo had evoked in him yesterday. Hid heart clenched with compassion and a simple desire to _help_, to remedy what he'd caused, to some extent, even though it couldn't be undone. Smile disappeared from his face, and the words flowed without thinking.

"Do you remember what I told you yesterday?" he spoke, and this time his voice was softer. "That I am sorry for how I treated you. I really reproach myself for possibly making you feel worse. I'm a head doctor here, and yet I behaved the way that I should be battered. I can't undo what I did, I can only try to fix it somehow. But I can do it only with your help, Pelo."

The boy remained silent, both outwardly and physiologically. His heart was beating at a slow, even pace, and his breath was easy. Not even a single muscle twitched in his body.

"I'm not saying it because I feel remorse and want to ease it," Law kept talking. "Although, after our meeting from ten days ago, you probably couldn't expect anything else," he added with bitter irony. "Anyway, it's not about my conscience and well-being; I really want to help you. We doctors are like that: we want to help... and other person's suffering pains us, too. People use to say that the doctors have work only because of the ill, but believe me, every doctor would be happy if all diseases vanished from the world, for it is them that we hate the most. It's hard to see another person ailing, especially someone as young as you," he said almost in a whisper and gulped. "Recover, Pelo," he asked. "There's so many things you can do and achieve... so many days before you, and each of them may make you happy. More than anything, I'd like to see you get out of bed and gain strength. I'd celebrate for a whole week," he declared with a wry smile.

It was that moment that the boy's pulse quickened, causing the very same reaction in Law himself, along with the feeling that could be considered happiness in other circumstances.

"I'm glad you hear me," he said with warmth, and this time it was much easier to smile. "And that you care about what I say. It fills me with hope that, despite everything I've done, we still can deal with each other, thanks. I don't know if I can count on your forgiveness, even if I apologise thousand times... I only want you to know that what I said the other day... that this hospital isn't a place for you... That was foolish and thoughtless, and I regretted having said it immediately. I think that I'm going to be ashamed of those words until the end of my life," he admitted. "It's not true that it's not a place for you. You can stay here as long as you need mine... our help. Right, Mirva?" he turned to the nurse.

"Of course," she rushed to answer and, when he gave her a sign to keep talking, she moved her chair closer. "This hospital was opened to help people in need. We all wish that you recover, and we're going to do everything we can to make you feel better."

Law frowned. The boy's pulse slowed to its initial rate, even though he could clearly hear the nurse's voice. Law waved at her to continue.

"It's exactly as Dr Law said: we find it hard to look at ill people, especially children, but we spare no effort to ease their... your suffering. It's our vocation, something we devoted ourselves to."

Nothing. Rosapelo's heart rate was slow and didn't seem to react to any external stimuli. Time for the last proof...

"Pelo, do you remember that you're currently in the Corazon Memorial Hospital on Raftel? You've been ill for so long that I wouldn't be surprised if you were confused about your situation..." Law spoke and noticed the instant acceleration of the boy's pulse.

He felt like sighing. It seemed that Rosapelo really reacted only to _his_ voice, at least now. Of course, Law should perform that experiment with other people, like Clione... but something told him the result would be the same. For some reason, the boy had fixated on him... and Law's attentive mind suggested at once that it'd happened probably because in the last two weeks it was Law who'd evoked the strongest emotional reaction in him. It could be assumed that Rosapelo's stupor had started after he'd learned about his mother death. When Law had brought him back from ice, preventing his suicide, then had yelled at him and broken his arm, it was probably shocking enough to get through that wall that had begun to rise around him. It was probably strong enough to leave a memory trace that prompted the physiological response even as the boy was in catatonia.

Law felt uneasy as the new thought struck him. Maybe Rosapelo simply _feared_ him? Until now, he hadn't even considered such a scenario, while it was quite possible. The boy was a child, and every child reacted with fear to an adult's anger. It was beyond doubt that Law had used violence - verbal, but also physical, although the latter had been involuntary - and thus such a reaction wouldn't be strange... Law clenched his jaws, trying to ignore that unpleasant sensation in his stomach, but in vain. The thought that he, Trafalgar Law, might have struck fear in his juvenile patient, was disgusting as hardly anything. Yet, he had to face it, as he had to face all consequences of his actions. He swallowed.

"Pelo," he said to the boy. "If you're afraid of me, I assure you that no harm will come to you here," he said with emphasis. "Not from me nor anyone else. I can't deny that I treated you with aggression, but believe me, I didn't do it because I hate you..." He asked himself if it was really so. He knew well that particular moment Rosapelo _had been_ a person he couldn't stand the most in the world. But now... "I don't hate you, Pelo. I will never hate you," he said in a softer voice, for his throat clenched... but he knew more than anything he was telling the truth.

He had no idea what was happening in the boy's mind - even the Ope Ope no Mi couldn't tell him that - but at least Rosapelo's pulse was still at the arousal level. Cautiously, Law thought it wasn't a reaction of a scared or alarmed person... but then he came to the conclusion it could be only his wishful thinking. The boy had been in a torpor, so his physiological functions and their alterations were probably attenuated; maybe just a slow acceleration in the heart rate was the maximum that his organism could muster now, even if the boy experienced strong fear.

For a hundredth time, Law told himself he couldn't undo what had already happened. Only facts were in his hands, which now meant he was in contact with Rosapelo. Even if it were caused by fear, it was the _only_ contact they had. If the boy could be saved to it, only that mattered... but Law didn't plan to congratulate himself or rejoice on the nature of that connection. He could only hope that one day he would learn how it really was. No, he _had_ to believe he could learn, there was no other option.

In any case, it seemed that he would have to spend much longer he'd expected on psychiatry, in this very room... but suddenly he realised he didn't find it unpleasant. He was amazed at the change that had happened in him in just a few days, but it was undisputed.

"You know, the truth is I _was_ very angry with you," he confessed, speaking more to himself than the boy. "And I never wanted to see you again, but now it's different." He shook his head. "No, I could never hate you, I can promise that... I know well how it is to be the one people hate," he added in a softer voice. "You know, even though I'm pretty much respected now, I once... when I was even younger than you're now, there was a time that I was given only hatred. I got ill, and my disease was considered to be lethal and contagious. It was lethal, but not contagious, only that people didn't know that... or didn't want to know," he whispered bitterly. "Everyone with the symptoms was killed on a spot. I'm probably the only person who survived the extermination in my homeland. The Ope Ope no Mi... the Devil Fruit of mine cured me of that disease, but before it happened, I'd spent many years believing I shouldn't live at all... arousing only fear and disgust. So I know how it is when the whole world hates you and thinks of you as an enemy to be eliminated. I don't wish that feeling to anyone."

He'd never told it to anyone. He hadn't even planned to tell... and yet now it'd just happened. It didn't arouse any emotions; he could almost believe that all that had occurred in another life or had happened to someone else. Still, it had shaped him. First it'd shaped him to act like others... and then, when his life had started anew, it'd shaped him to always do the contrary: to turn his back on the hatred and once again believe. The only man he hated, had deserved it a hundredfold.

But not Rosapelo.

"And yet, Pelo, I showed you my resentment, without thinking about your situation," he said quietly. "It only proves how imperfect I am. Even if some people thinks of me as a god, I'm nothing more than an ordinary man... and sometimes I behave as I weren't even that." He shook his head and breathed deeply. "It's not like I'm making excuses. As I said, no explanation would erase what already happened or make it disappear, the pain I caused you. That's why I really wish that you tell me what should I do to compensate you for that pain. I promise to do whatever is in my power to fulfil your wish. I can't do _anything_, but I still can pretty much."

No answer, but it wasn't like he'd expected it, at least not at once. For now, that quick pulse of the boy was enough, for it convinced him he was on a right path. He decided to draw comfort from that, instead of focusing on negatives.

"Think about it," he said. "Now I must go, but I'll come to you again two hours from now. Maybe that time you will be able to tell me," he added with a smile and rose to leave.

He headed to the canteen to grab some salad on his way to the consultations, just like yesterday. However, contrary to the previous day, euphoria no longer filled him. Of course, he was glad that meeting with Rosapelo had gone according to his expectations, but his prevailing emotion was some kind of dejection. Well, he'd wanted to treat a psychiatric patient, so now he could reap the fruits, he sneered in thoughts. Apparently, the whole deal wouldn't be easy to either of them. But what else could he do if not clench his teeth and endure that discomfort...? After all, the happy end would inevitably come.

One thing amazed him, though, but in a positive way: he could _talk_. Law considered himself to be a silent type who spoke only when it was absolutely necessary, his every answer being well thought-out and phrased. Just two days ago, if someone had told him he would start to recite monologues to a boy in stupor - and that it wouldn't be hard - he would have congratulated that someone on their imagination or sent onto the seventh floor right away... And yet it'd appeared that words would come to him easily and he didn't need to particularly think about them nor did he need to restrict them. When he'd finally managed to made himself think of the ill boy with warmer feelings... then it had just happened. He'd spoke what was in his heart, openly and directly. But it was true that he felt remorseful for having mistreated Rosapelo before, so being honest had been the best option, and he should maintain that tendency.

But what had got into him to talk about his past? It was what surprised him the most. He'd hardly ever spoken about those things, and now it'd just come naturally to catch onto them... Was it because his interlocutor couldn't reply...? Maybe it was easier to open one's heart to someone who could only listen...? Or maybe he'd simply felt that relating to his own disease and past situation would be the best choice? Actually, he still didn't know if recalling his own history was a good thing - after all, for _some_ reason he'd avoided unloading all his life, right? - but if it should help in current circumstances, then why not? He didn't plan to give an account of his thirty-nine years of life... although it wasn't entirely impossible, given that today he'd said more than in the whole month, he thought with a wry smile. If Ikkaku learned of it, she would undoubtedly considered it an utter lie...

This way or another, Law could only hope he hadn't exhausted his year's supply of eloquence and that talking would come as easily from now on, too. And if Rosapelo finally spoke and ordered him to shut up... Well, then Law would be more than happy, it was beyond doubt.

He entered the lecture hall two minutes late, but it was still within standards of decency, so he only mumbled something akin to apology to the colleagues. However, before opening the session, his eyes searched for the gynaecology intern, who was sitting in the back row.

"Dr Otto," he turned to the young man, who jumped to his feet. "I kindly ask you not to report my mood to Dr Ikkaku. Or anyone else, for that matter. Do I make myself clear?"

The stifled giggles could be heard in the lecture hall. The intern went red as a lobster and nodded vigorously. It was clear that he didn't know where to look.

Law swept others with his gaze. "The same applies to everyone of you," he said, sitting down on the podium and opening his salad. "The only thing that should leave this room are medical issues. But if you really must make fun of your director, be so kind and try that it doesn't reach my ear, okay?" he added with a crooked smile, causing the whole avalanche of enraged negations and declarations of support, and even two or three smiles from the more experienced doctors who have known him for many years. "It's enough that my every gesture or action are widely commented by my employees, as if I were in some kind of a circus attraction. Is it true that the hospital bulletin has a column about me?" he threw casually, taking some food on his fork.

"No, but it's a good idea..." some jokester muttered.

Law recognised him as a psychiatry resident and pointed a fork at him. "I heard that, Dr Antero. It seems to me that Doctor is very inclined to start having duties on holidays," he said, although it didn't appear that the resident cared much.

He stifled a curse upon remembering that it was quite hard to distress a psychiatrist... to say nothing of intimidating. Moreover, they were such a strange group who liked to have duties, so that argument was useless by default... Maybe a threat of revoking the right to have duties would work better...? he asked himself. Then he realised he'd let himself be drawn into the psychiatrists' games, and even without their active involvement. Disgusting.

"Ah, let's begin already, 'cause I'd like to finish early today... Who wants to start?"

The session ended slightly before the official hour, indeed, and Law was off to the Seven before Clione's resident managed to get up from his chair. He had some twenty minutes... maybe half an hour, at the very most, if he consciously decided to be late for new admissions, although the very thought made his insides twist. In Rosapelo's situation nothing had changed, even the nurse was the same, only the sunlight was no longer coming directly inside. The boy was half-sitting, half-lying with his eyes fixed ahead. His breathing was easy, and he had his thin arms on the cover. The drip was running slowly, providing him with the necessary nutrition through the pipe.

"Hi, Pelo," Law said, pushing out the chair and activating the Ope Ope no Mi. "I dropped by, just like I promised you. I had the consultation session with other doctors, I always have it between twelve and two PM..."

He spent a moment talking about his work and closely monitoring the boy's heart rate, that increased after a few minutes; he was pleased to notice this time it happened faster than before. Clione's intuition deserved respect... although maybe it was rather the observation skill in question. Anyway, it seemed that Law was really the right treatment method in this case.

"Do you remember what I asked you about earlier?" he went on. "Is there something you'd like me to do for you? I didn't say it as a formality; I really want to hear your answer."

He had no idea how the boy's memory functioned in this condition. Even if he reacted to voice, it didn't mean that between the meetings he was aware of Law or the words he'd heard. Maybe he just 'switched on' in response to a single stimulus, Law's voice, and then 'switched off' again when the stimulus was gone... Law had heard from Clione that patients suffering from severe mental disorders often exhibited the trouble in learning and sometimes didn't register anything that happened during the period when their symptoms were the worst. He had left Rosapelo with the request to think of his question, but it was possible that the boy had ceased being aware of it the moment Law had disappeared from his sight... or, rather, hearing. It wasn't the first time Law wished that the Ope Ope no Mi made it possible to look into the thought process, although, with his rational part, he knew that in a long run something like that would be a nightmare and turn his life into absolutely unbearable...

Well, he didn't have many options here. If Rosapelo was capable of thinking, all it took for Law was to maintain the contact and slowly drag him out of his stupor; that was the more fortunate alternative. Otherwise Law would need to repeat the same words by their every meeting, talk as if every time was the first one. No-one had said it would be easy, right? What mattered was to succeed in the end, and he was - was he now? - sure of it.

"There must be something I can do to make you feel better..." he continued. "Something that will ease your grief, how do you think? Would you like me to get you something? Everyone has something that calms them down when holding to it. For me, when I was still a pirate, it was my sword. And before that, it was my hat, I had a hat made of spotted seal fur, I used to wear it for many years... Or maybe you would like something new that you could focus on...? Tell me, I'll gladly get it for you. A book, a game, maybe your favourite dish?" he kept guessing in a hope that the boy would react to some offer, but it didn't work.

Of course, he suspected that Rosapelo wished only for his mother's return or his own death... and those two things Law _couldn't_ give to him. Yet, he had to keep trying.

"Maybe you'd like me to take you somewhere? It got warmer outside, we could go out and have a walk on the beach or go to Roger Bay. or even to the New Piece, that entertainment complex. I heard that you can stay day many days, so many attractions they have... I could take you in every place on Raftel... or even farther, although 'farther' means that we would have to take a submarine. In any case, if it only makes you feel better, just tell me where you'd like to go," he encouraged the boy.

Rosapelo's pulse was still regular and fluctuated around seventy per minute. Law strained his imagination; what else could he suggest to that child that apparently didn't want anything from him...? He drove away the unpleasant emotion that thought had brought along; it was too early to draw such conclusions... even though the indifference in Rosapelo's still eyes strongly indicated it was the case. If the psychiatric patients had been always what they seemed, then there would be no medicine in psychiatry, only violence.

"Or maybe you'd like me to do something stupid in other people's presence, as a compensation? It would be fair. I hurt you when I thought only of myself... so if I showed that my pride is worth nothing... Maybe I could, hmm... Maybe I should put a dress on, I'm sure Clione would borrow me one, and walk like that a whole day," he said seriously, although some part of him was cowering at that idea. "Well, maybe half a day, for I'm not sure if I should show myself to the new patients when looking like that. Although... for those coming here, my appearance is probably the least important. Clione would do my make-up..."

The nurse covered her mouth to stifle a giggle, but Law was determined to continue. "I could also sing a song through the P.A. system so that everyone could hear me. Believe me, I have a terrible voice and can't sing, so it certainly wouldn't make me popular... but I think I shouldn't subject my employees to such a trauma, what do you think? No, it would distress them and make them prone to mistakes, we can't have that... Ah, I know, I could make such a performance in the canteen, it would be safe. I bet everyone would be in such a shock that they wouldn't even think of talking about it outside the hospital... You should know that people follows everything I do, and with enthusiasm that is completely beyond reason. I once happened to faint in the work, and soon the whole world knew about it, for someone informed the newspapers, can you believe it...? But I'm not sure if there would be any person brave enough to inform the journalists that one day during the lunch break Trafalgar Law, the director of the Corazon Memorial Hospital on Raftel, climbed on the table wearing a dress and sang... hmm, I have no idea what, but I would certainly decide on something."

Mirva had turned away a moment ago, and only her shoulders were shaking from the noiseless laughter that she couldn't contain. Law found it favourable; he had fantasy, and it was a good trait on psychiatry. He felt like smiling himself, but then he realised that maybe it didn't fit, after all.

"However, Pelo, if you think that I shouldn't talk such things, then I won't. The situation is serious, and maybe I shouldn't make fun. In that case, I apologise," he said in a solemn voice, staring at the boy's pale and perfectly emotionless face. "I only wanted you to know that I'm prepared to do anything in order to comfort you, without caring about my benefit or dignity. As I said, I behaved selfishly towards you, and I regret it. It won't happen again, I promise," he ensured.

Was it only him or had the boy's pulse really sped up? No, it was no doubt that Rosapelo's heart was beating faster than just a moment ago. Law held his breath; he suddenly felt as if he were handing the most delicate jewel that would be smashed in pieces from one hit... maybe even from a single move of air. In this case, however, being cautious was pointless; he had to clutch to everything, even the tiniest sign. It was the only way to move forwards, towards the goal.

"What do you wish to tell me, Pelo?" he asked softly, although he was boiling inside. "I'm waiting for your answer, whatever it may be."

And when the answer came, he was shocked to realise he hadn't been prepared for it, after all... and yet it filled him with joy he hadn't expected either. Rosapelo's thin neck twitched, the muscles under the strained skin moved... and the next moment the boy's head started to turn, very, very slowly. Involuntarily, Law clenched his fists until he felt the nails dig into the insides of his palms, but he was too tense to care about it. Millimetre by millimetre, centimetre by centimetre, using the muscles that had probably forgotten all about the moving, with exertion that was being expressed in his fast heartbeat... Rosapelo was turning his head towards Law, and Law was noiselessly rooting for him, feeling as if his own heart were to burst out of his chest. He said nothing; he feared to even breathe loudly so that he didn't spoil what the boy was trying to do... or maybe it was about that clenching in his throat that made any words impossible...?

Finally, the intensely blue gaze met his eyes. Rosapelo made no sound but was _looking_ at him and _seeing_ him. Law couldn't be mistaken; the boy's sight focused on him. Suddenly, he had no idea what to say, for his all eloquence had vanished, swept out by the chaos of emotions, all of them positive. Even if there was still no expression on Rosapelo's face, and his blue eyes seemed but two polished balls with just the light skimming over them and nothing else, Law had never been so aware of the life in the boy as he was now.

He smiled shyly, then raised one hand and waved lightly. "Hi, Pelo," he said simply, and his smile could be heard in his quiet voice. "Law here."

Nothing was reflected in the boy's wide open eyes, but Law thought it didn't really matter. He could wait. At this pace, Rosapelo would recover before Law knew it.

He was euphoric. The boy hadn't done much - he'd just turned his head to look at him - but after one and a half week of complete inactivity on his part something like that was like climbing a mountain. Law was amazed at that joy he hadn't expected. It was so simple, and so powerful in its simplicity. Trafalgar Law, who had saved lives of thousands of people using the Ope Ope no Mi, performing miracle surgeries only he was able to, had forgotten such feelings. For many years, his daily live had been filled with satisfaction with work and complex operations, as well as pride of managing the best hospital in the world. And this... This was the feeling of a rookie doctor who'd succeeded in curing his first patient from a minor complaint... or of a man who'd done a good thing. How he wished to be able to keep it...!

Rosapelo was staring at him in silence, at him and nothing else. The eyes fixed on Law weren't moving, their gaze bearing no evidence of will behind it. He was blinking evey now and then, without haste, regularly. His heart was slowing down, calming down after the effort made. It was clear he didn't mean to speak. He was just lying and staring, that was enough for him, and others had to settle with that much.

"I talked so much that you finally decided to tell me to get out?" Law joked, smiling all the time, although the sight of the boy's emaciated face wasn't pleasant, now that he could see it whole. Rosapelo's skin seemed as white as the pillow cover under his head, with the blue shadows under his eyes and in the hollows of his cheeks. Law wanted to remedy it somehow... but he had to be patient and do his job. "Or, rather, you decided to answer my question? I guess you can't do it with words, at least not yet...? Then, maybe... We know that you can move. You've moved your head, and it says something. Maybe you could answer me with blinking? Should we try? One blink is 'yes', no blinking is 'no'. I'm going to ask one question at a time. Let's see if it works... You are Pelo, right?"

No reaction. The boy's eyelashes didn't even budge; the blink happened later, according to the normal pace.

"You're not Pelo?" Law asked.

Nothing again. Then, the boy probably couldn't do it yet... or wasn't ready for a mutual contact. Maybe looking was all that he needed now... maybe he just wanted to know that Law was really there.

"Okay, let's leave it for later," Law decided. "No need to rush things. For now, I'm glad with what you've done. It's great that we can see each other," he said and smiled again.

Rosapelo was staring at him with his intensely blue eyes, his pulse was calm, and his breath was even. Law was under the absurd impression that the boy tried to convince him he was all right.

His inner clock told him he should go - new patients were waiting for him upstairs - but how reluctant he was to get up and break the contact... finish that amazing moment...! But there was no help. He told himself he would have to make the connection with Rosapelo anew. He was sure he would succeed.

"Pelo, I must go now. Other patients need me," he said truthfully, although it seemed almost fishy when confronted with the boy's sharp gaze and silence. "It's not that I _want_ to go," he added, as if trying to convince him. "I mean, I do want... it's my job, and..." He broke off, aware he started gibbering. "I'll be back," he announced. He hadn't planned it, but now he was perfectly certain he had to return here; he felt like stopping the treatment halfway through, and it was awful. "I'll be back as soon as I'm finished. It will take a few hours, you'll have to wait until six, at least... but I'll certainly be back. I'll be back. Pelo," he promised with emphasis and rose.

The boy didn't reply, but - unbelievable - his gaze moved upwards, clearly following Law's movement. Law had suspected that the little patient's eyes would remain still, and yet Rosapelo followed him with his eyes! It was undoubtedly a good sign.

"Until then, you can practise blinking, so that we can have a talk," he said on an impulse and smiled again. "I think it's going to be fun. See you! I'll be back after six," he repeated, saying it also to the nurse, who nodded, and left.

For all his joy, he felt displeasure due to not being able to stay... Well, Rosapelo wasn't the first patient whose treatment needed to be scheduled for several days, but, in his condition, taking breaks wasn't good since Law had managed to make a substantial contact. What if he would have to start from the scrap when he'd come the next time...? He had to set aside much more time for the boy.

Yeah, that was it: he should reserve the fixed time for Rosapelo in his schedule. He quickly came to the conclusion it was much easier to say than do. His plan was so tight that it was close to impossible to put in it something extra... especially longer than half an hour and repetitive, even if he dropped the lunch break, which he'd already done. He couldn't shorten the surgeries - he would have to make less of them, which didn't sit well with him at all - nor could he move the consultations to another time, for they were connected to the schedules of all other doctors. But he could start new admissions later, like at three PM; that way, he would have a whole hour at his disposal... For the patients who often arrived here from halfway around the world, it was probably all the same whether the miracle-doctor saw them at four or five. Besides, it would be a temporary change only, for Rosapelo would undoubtedly start to recover in a few days.

Law didn't use to analyse his decisions in details or deliberate over all pros and cons; if they were sensible, he rather put them into effect right away. On the way to his office - a little crowd of patients and their families gathering already in front of it - he communicated the modification of his schedule to his secretary, starting tomorrow. At once, he felt better and vigorously started the new admissions.

When he finished, it was six PM sharp. Normally, it was the time he started the paper work, but now he didn't even think of it, only ran down to the seventh floor and appeared in Rosapelo's room just a bit earlier he would have appeared if he'd teleported via ROOM. However, he was disappointed: the boy was sleeping, and there was no use waking him. Well, it was logical that he didn't register the flow of time the way the healthy people did; 'after six' hadn't meant anything for him, especially that there was no clock in the room. Law spent a moment looking at the boy's sleeping face before deciding to return upstairs; he had nothing to do here.

In the hall, he ran into Clione leaving his office. Judging from the fact that the psychiatrist had an overcoat and a bag, he was undoubtedly going home. Seeing him, the head of the Seven smiled and lock the door. "I heard that the poultice of Dr Law started to work. You're really something else..." he said with admiration.

"It's you who thought of it, so the whole credit goes to you... I'm only conducting the therapy you ordered," Law muttered in reply. "But, at this pace, the treatment would end rather sooner than later. It's not my fault that the kid had fixated on me and reacts to nothing else."

"Fixated, you say... I bet it's because of your cheerful smile."

"What cheerful smile?"

"Mirva said she'd never seen you smiling like that, before," Clione explained, pressing the button to call the lift. "Or maybe she said she hadn't seen you smiling, before...?"

"Now that was a bit too harsh... or even insolent. I happen to smile isometimes/i," Law retorted.

"All right, all right... You're going to come tomorrow?"

"I am. The poultice need to be changed often..."

Clione patted him on the back and entered the lift. "But a smile is as important," he stated. "See you tomorrow!"

Law waved him goodbye. On the way to his office, he realised he'd smiled a lot today, indeed; he could feel it in his facial muscles... Now he found it strange: to smile so much to someone who didn't smile back, but earlier, when he'd talked to Rosapelo, he hadn't thought about it at all; he'd just naturally smiled.

A sudden memory struck him, making him stop dead in his track; it took him a while to resume walking, his lips pressed tight with bitterness. It was like reversing the roles. Long ago - so long he shouldn't even remember it - he'd been a small boy accepting every smile poker-faced. So many smiles, so many beams that he could practically bath in them like in a sunlight, but... He hadn't believed those smiles, hadn't trusted their genuineness; ha hadn't accepted the affection behind them. He'd defended from those smiles, waiting for them to stop... to reveal they'd been just a game, a facade doomed to fall down and smash to pieces in contact with his adamancy. But they hadn't stopped until the very end, when his reaction hadn't mattered anymore. So many times he'd berated himself for having taken so long to answer that smile. If he'd been faster, then maybe...

But second-guessing was pointless, he knew that all too well. At least, he'd learned that smile was something one should never give up on. He hadn't believed to ever use that lesson... and yet, now he was in the situation he could. And even if Rosapelo's expressionlessness almost certainly resulted from his mental state, it was the fact that the boy didn't have any reason to trust him, right...?

Nevertheless, he'd reacted to Law today...! He'd come in contact with him! It was no longer a physiological response, only a conscious action he'd decided on of his own free will...! It bode well... and Law spent a moment relishing that funny feeling in his chest evoked by remembering how the boy had sought for his eyes. He smiled again.

Then he reminded himself that it was all about the medical success. The most important thing was to make the boy recover, and that was his, Trafalgar Law's task. Slowly, step by step, he would bring Rosapelo out of his stupor, restoring him to health.

Still, no matter how logic his arguments were, he couldn't stop hoping that as soon as tomorrow he would be able to experience the joy that had fallen to him so unexpectedly today. He awaited that impatiently.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

The next morning, Law waked up long before his normal time, that was 4 AM. From the evening point of view 11 AM seemed terribly far, to say nothing of 2 PM, and thus he'd decided to visit his little patient as soon as after his morning surgeries. Of course, time for that wouldn't occur by itself; he had to start the said surgeries earlier, which required earlier wake up as well. He couldn't resist the impression that the more often he would see Rosapelo, and in shorter intervals, the faster the boy's recovery would be; it seemed only logical to increase his working pace. Irrationally, he thought he was glad that Bepo was still out; his friend would undoubtedly be of a different opinion about Law increasing the amount of work at the cost of his night sleep. All the more reasons to get Rosapelo on his feet soon, that was before Bepo's return.

It was half past eight and the bright day outside, when Law vigorously entered his patient's room. He was glad to see that the boy wasn't asleep; a nurse, the same that yesterday, was changing his drip, which he didn't objected to. Just like before, he was half-lying, half-sitting on the bed, unmoving and staring at some point ahead of him. Law greeted them both - only Mirva greeted him back - then raised one arm; he was holding a wall clock he'd just fetched from the hospital storage room.

"I came last evening, but you were already sleeping, Pelo," he said, approaching the wall opposite the boy. "You probably didn't remember I would come at six...? I thought you needed a clock to discern the time passing."

The clock was pretty ordinary: it had a round white face, black hands and distinct numbers; it was perfect for a patient having troubles with orientation to time. No particular measures were required to install it - it had a magnet that was attracted to the metal elements in the wall - although Law had no doubt he would handle a nail and a hammer, if needed. However, this option was safer, since hooks and pegs should be avoided in psychiatry.

When he turned around, he saw Rosapelo stare at the clock, but then his gaze moved to the side, to Law. The fear that the night might have ruined what they'd managed to achieve the previous day - a substantial shortening in the boy's response time - vanished. Quite the contrary, it seemed that actually some progress had happened: yesterday, it'd taken the boy much longer to respond to a stimulus, to Law.

"Now you're going to have a better sense of when I should come," Law said cheerfully, sitting down on the chair. "And I'll try to visit you at least three times per day."

Rosapelo's head turned in his direction, and Law had yet another reason to be happy: the movement was much smoother and freer than yesterday, when it'd seemed that the mechanism in the boy's neck had consisted mostly of the rusted cogwheels. It still wasn't pleasant to look at Rosapelo's face, but Law forced himself to turn off his 'medical look' and remain oblivious to the unnatural paleness or emaciation. He wondered if he should activate the Ope Ope no Mi, but it seemed pointless to follow the boy's physiological functions when he could see his reactions with the naked eye, so in the end he decided against it.

"Do you remember what we spoke of yesterday?" he started. "I asked you what should I do to make you feel better. Is there anything I could do for you? I really wish to know. Did you think of it? I'm serious: I'll make whatever you want if it's only in my powers. You just have to tell me."

Rosapelo was looking at him with his blue eyes, blinking regularly. He didn't seem to want or intend to speak. However, Law thought his gaze was no longer so empty it had been yesterday; he'd rather say that the boy's stare was intent and attentive, even though there was no emotion on his face whatsoever. Judging from the previous experience, Rosapelo was seeing and hearing Law - but was he also comprehending the speech? It remained unclear; yet, based on his reactions, Law suspected he was.

"You don't have to reply with words if you don't like... or can't," Law assured him. "But I know that you don't find my being here... unpleasant... so I guess you may want something from me, right?"

Rosapelo said nothing, and Law once again resisted the temptation to activate his Devil Fruit. However, he knew that the Ope Ope no Mi couldn't do anything; what he needed were patience and his own contribution. Taking small steps, he would undoubtedly reach his goal... and, to be frank, he was under the impression those small steps were actually giant leaps.

"Maybe we can try what I suggested yesterday? You'll try to answer with blinking? One blink is 'yes', no blink is 'no', two blinks is 'don't know'. You're able to move your head, so as a doctor I'm perfectly certain you will succeed, don't you think? It would be really great if we could communicate, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed for you, see?" He raised both hands so that the boy could see them indeed. "Pelo? Shall we start?"

He was staring at Rosapelo's eyes so intensely that it seemed to him his own ones were round like balls... but it didn't matter at all, for the moment he finished talking, the boy blinked markedly. Law felt his pulse quicken and enthusiasm grow. Of course, he wasn't entirely sure if the blink was intentional or regular, but it was easy to check... and to test the boy's orientation at the same time.

"You are Rosapelo, right? I know, I know, you don't like to be called that."

Blink.

"Do you remember I'm Law?

Blink.

"Do you remember I'm a doctor?"

Blink.

"Do you remember you're in my hospital?"

Blink.

Law smiled widely, feeling relieved, excited and happy. Now it was unquestionable that he'd managed to make a mutual contact with Rosapelo, the one that enabled them to communicate. The boy was still lying lump on the bed, as if he'd lost all ability to move, making no gesture and no grimace, and he could appear a living dead for someone else, but Law was already aware that he was a man whose brain was working and who simply couldn't communicate in a normal way.

"You're doing great, Pelo," he said, still smiling, and then glanced at the nurse, who was staring at them with excitement. "You can't imagine how glad I am that we can finally understand each other! So, shall we continue?"

Blink.

"What time of year is now? Summer?"

Nothing.

"Is it cold outside?"

Blink.

"You're right, it's still winter. How much is five times six? Thirty?"

Blink.

"Is it my right hand?" Law raised his left one.

Nothing.

"Is it evening now?"

Nothing.

"Do you remember I was here yesterday?"

Blink.

"Are we alone here?"

No reaction, and then two blinks.

Apparently, the boy was still oblivious to anyone but Law... On the other hand, he had replied he didn't know, so maybe he was aware of other people, to some extent...? Sometimes, especially after a shock, it happened that people experienced an apparent dissociation on the level of senses and consciousness: for example, they were perfectly certain they'd lost their sight, yet moved normally, avoiding the obstacles on their path. It could be that Rosapelo's mind worked like that now.

"There is sitting Mirva, a nurse. She was here yesterday, too," Law pointed his hand at the woman, but Rosapelo didn't move nor take his eyes off him. The only course was to continue.

"Are you in pain?"

Nothing.

Law smiled again. It seemed that Rosapelo was oriented to time, place and himself, his short-term memory worked nicely, and there were no serious deficits in his cognition, if it could be assessed through a few general questions. It would be good to know for sure, but Law decided to leave it at this. Further examination of the boy's mental state would require to involve the topics he'd rather avoid.

"Those were some stupid questions, I know," he said. "Well, maybe except for the last one. I'm glad you're not hurting anywhere. I didn't ask them because I thought you didn't know the answers." He turned to look at the clock. "I still have a few minutes. At eight, I must be somewhere else..."

He noticed Rosapelo followed his eyes, and it made him happy; the boy started to see other things in his surroundings, too, which was yet another step forward. Law congratulated himself on the idea of bringing the clock here.

"Yes, I have other patients at eight," he repeated. "Besides, I'm sure you're going to get tired blinking, so the break will be okay. I'll be back at eleven... half past eleven at the latest. But now, as we still have a little while... Would you like to tell me what I can do for you?"

Rosapelo looked at him intently.

"Right, it's hard to answer such a question..." Law admitted. "Would you like me to give you something?"

Nothing.

"Would you like me to take you somewhere?"

Nothing... and then two blinks... and then Rosapelo's lips twitched - so lightly it could be easily missed. Then the boy turned his head to the window. Law asked himself what it could mean - the very first grimace Rosapelo had made in many, many days - but he could only be sure it wasn't an expression of any positive emotions. It seemed as if Rosapelo hadn't been certain of his own answer and felt frustrated because of that... Law wondered frantically how should he interpret it... and quickly decided that the boy probably wanted - and didn't want - to go to where his mother was, wherever she might be. If his memory worked just fine, he must have known she was dead... Law remembered that the woman's body was in the morgue in Roger Bay; there was no room for store it in the Corazon Memorial Hospital because people never died here...

However, he decided it was too early to mention that, and thus he only said, "If you want to go somewhere, you must tell me," wondering if it was a cowardice on his part. "I'll take you there, I promise," he declared nonetheless and then rose. "It's five to eight, Pelo, I should go now. Is there anything you still want to say to me?"

The boy turned his head in his direction again. Law smiled at him; his heart was beating fast, as if he was waiting for the answer, this time a verbal one. Rosapelo, however, was staring at him without emotion, just like before.

"I'll come after eleven... three hours from now," Law reminded... and then, unexpectedly, he asked, "Do you want me to come?" for it suddenly seemed very important.

Blink.

Law smiled wider. "Then, I'll come," he declared. "Take care. See you soon, Pelo!"

On his way to the operating theatre, Law couldn't but be delighted by the fact it all went so well. In just two days, an incredible improvement had happened in the boy's condition; only yesterday, it'd required a lot of effort to make him react, and today Law could already communicate with him...! Of course, the greatest credit went to Clione and his observation skills, but the realisation that Law had his share, too... no, that without him nothing of that could be possible, was almost intoxicating. Apparently, Law constantly needed to feel it: that he could affect other people's health...

This time, he forgot to hide his good mood and entered the operating room, wearing a wide smile that his two assistants noticed at once.

"Oh, why are you in such a good mood today, Boss?" Shachi asked and added quickly, "Not that I complain."

"My patient is recovering, that's why," Law muttered in reply.

"That's very, very good," Penguin commented, patting him in his back. "But..." He and Shachi exchanged looks. "What's strange about it...?"

Law felt like sighing. "He's a special patient whom I'm treating without using the Ope Ope no Mi," he explained patiently.

Now his assistants looked clearly alarmed, as if Law had said something that was obviously at odds with the laws of nature, and were speechless for a longer while.

"Um... The battery has run out?" Shachi asked finally.

"Moron. What battery? Do you think my Devil Fruit has a limited period of function or something? He's a psychiatric patient," Law replied, but it seemed that his answer only deepened his assistants' confusion, as they exchanged their looks again.

Then Shachi shrugged. "Spring is coming. People start thinking weird stuff," he decided.

"But it's nice that you finally acknowledge psychiatry as a medical field, Boss, and decided to try your hand at it," Penguin praised him, although for some reason he sounded ironic. "Good luck," he added in a supporting manner, which only increased Law's impression he was being made fun of.

"Mind your own business, would you?" he grunted. "Besides, I didn't come here to talk. At eleven, I must be back on Seven, so let's get started."

Today, he operated on a middle-aged archaeologist, poisoned by some nasty organic substance. Law had no idea what it was, probably an unknown compound that had remained hidden in the earth's crust since prehistorical times until the explorers had dug to it. And one might think that searching for historical traces should be safe, especially now that it was no longer punishable by death to study the particular periods of the world history, he thought ironically. He hoped that site had been closed and declared off-limits; it was enough he to treat the whole group of the archaeologists that had worked there.

Then, he cured a young woman with encephalopathy caused by the congenital liver disease. It was a miracle she'd arrived in Raftel in time. The disease was incurable, and encephalopathy... well, at this stage, it couldn't be reversed with any conventional method. Law wondered why the doctors hadn't referred the woman to the Corazon Memorial Hospital earlier; it must have been obvious her condition would only deteriorate, leading to her premature death. It could be that the disease had been just diagnosed, if the symptoms had manifested late... In any case, she'd been really lucky. Law repaired all damage in her brain and other organs and completely removed the disease from her organism.

The last patient was the severe case of chronic obstructive pulmonary disease with heart failure... that was, severe for the patients, not for Law. He was a man in his sixties in the end stage; he couldn't function without an oxygen tank, and even with it he'd barely managed. Law repaired his lungs and bronchi, and could only hope that Chopper's lecture would repair the patient's attitude as well, after his life had been miraculously extended. When it was about people willingly destructing their health with the bad lifestyle, Law's empathy experienced an emergency shutdown... but if he cared about all those, um... problematic individuals, to say it in a diplomatic manner, he would quickly go crazy. Fortunately, he was here only to cure.

The surgeries went smoothly, and it was ten to eleven that Law was changing to his normal clothes. However, as he went to the lift to go up to psychiatry, he felt hungry. True, he'd got up earlier today, so his stomach, accustomed to eating at concrete intervals, was demanding food already. The prospect of eating no sooner than one hour from now was exceptionally unpleasant, and after a short debate with himself - it took as long as waiting for the lift to come - he decided to take his lunch to Seven. In principle, eating in the patients' presence was out of question, but in Rosapelo's case the patient-doctor relationship was much more casual. If Law brought food with him, maybe he would be able to persuade the boy into eating something? If he was correct, Rosapelo had been on a drip for almost two weeks...

He grabbed a salad, two onigiri and a bottle of mineral water from the canteen, realising he hadn't had a normal lunch for days. All the more reasons make Rosapelo recover; now, he was spending his every free moment on psychiatry. And on his own will, he thought, rolling his eyes.

In the hall of the seventh floor he run into Clione, who gave the content of his hands a suggestive look. "Where do you think you're going with that buffet?"

"The patient you ordered the poultice of me, is taking my all free time, so I've no possibility to eat normal lunches in the canteen," Law replied with a sneer.

"In that case, I promise to take you for a decent lunch once you cured him," Clione said. "Or even for a dinner to the All Baratie."

"I'll pass," Law mumbled. "You're going to hit on me again."

"I beg your pardon," the psychiatrist retorted with faked indignation. "We decided we were done with it... and should I remind you at whose request? For my part, I intend to keep my end of the deal," he declared flatly. "Although I bought a very nice dress the other day, and it would be great to try it on..." he muttered under his breath and stared at the ceiling non-committally.

Law ignored him, but he had a disturbing impression that they just couldn't go on without such subtexts, after all. It was as if, having known each other twenty years, two friend had suddenly started to call each other different names... But, he remembered, he'd drawn that line because he'd felt he hadn't been fair to Clione. He couldn't give up on his decision just two days later, only because old habits still came naturally to him...

"In any case, today I'm eating in Rosapelo's room," he stated. "Can't I?"

"Sure you can. And if you managed to persuade him into eating, too, it would be great," Clione replied with a smile.

"That's what I thought myself," Law assured him eagerly, for he didn't want to appear as someone who placed his own comfort over his patient's welfare.

Mercifully, the psychiatrist didn't comment that, only said, "I heard you got into contact with him...? You're able to communicate with him, right?"

"He answers me with blinking."

"After you left, Mirva... the nurse tried to 'talk' with him that way," Clione informed, "and I, too, but he didn't react at all. No, he didn't even pay attention to us. But he kept glancing at the clock. It seems you're still the only person he wants to be in contact with. So, unfortunately, you're going to spend a bit longer here," he added in with compassion.

"You know, I think we're talking about just a few days," Law replied. "He gets out of that stupor pretty fast."

The psychiatrist patted him on his back. "All thanks to you," he said warmly. "Maybe that experience will change a bit your attitude towards the psychiatric patients..."

"Hey, now you're talking like Penguin."

"Really?" Clione asked in surprise. "It must be the first time..." he muttered.

"Do I treat your patients badly?" Law asked, offended.

"Where did you get that idea? Of course you don't! Only when you look at them, you have that expression like you wished they shouldn't even exist," the psychiatrist replied with a radiant smile.

"What? I certainly don't!"

"But don't worry," Clione said in a comforting manner. "Half of people wouldn't even assume that the world's greatest doctor could think that way, so they come to the conclusion they must have seen it wrong..."

Law frowned. "And the other half?" he asked.

"Well, the other half is undoubtedly of the opinion that the world's greatest doctor has every right to be an arrogant and conceited git who cares about his patients less than the last year's snow."

"I hate snow," Law replied glumly. "Besides, I'm devastated by your opinion, and I want you to know it. And speaking seriously... I have no problem coming here. The truth is," he lowered his voice, "and you know it as much as I do, that two weeks ago I behaved towards him like a piece of shit, and I have a nasty feeling I might have contributed to his condition. Now that I already snapped out of it, I want to do everything I can to reverse it and help him. So it's not like I _force_ myself to visit him, okay?" he stressed out, for he thought it was important.

The psychiatrist nodded. "Okay. That's good to know. Thanks for telling me."

"Then, let's not waste more time chattering in the corridor... I'm hungry."

Clione smiled wryly and opened the door of the ward. "Think about that dinner in the All Baratie."

"I will," Law muttered. "One thing more. Try to make contact with him. I'm sure you're going to succeed sooner or later. I think he's aware of other people and his surroundings, and he's going to start acting accordingly at some point."

"Leave it to us. We'll be trying," the psychiatrist promised, stopping in front of the nurse station. "Thanks."

Law nodded and went to Rosapelo's room, where he found another nurse; Mirva must have left for a lunch break. The moment he entered, he saw the pair of blue eyes staring at him. Rosapelo's time of response had shortened again.

"Hi again," he said, approaching the bed and taking 'his' chair on the boy's right. Rosapelo's gaze followed his every move. "I brought myself a meal. You don't mind if I eat...?" He put his lunch on the table. "Actually..." On impulse, he shifted one onigiri on the bed cover, next to the boy's palm. "Maybe you'd like to eat with me?" he suggested.

Rosapelo didn't move; he was just staring blankly at Law. The snack didn't seem to interest him, but Law hadn't really expected it, not yet. In fact, milk soup would be a better idea..

"It would be good if you started to eat. You know, I'd never be able to starve for two weeks... I feel sick at the very thought," he said, opening the salad box. "What do we have here today? A tuna salad, not bad... Do you like fish, Pelo?

Blink.

"That's good. The fish are healthy... well, most of them. What else do you like?" He started to list different kinds of food and got an affirmative in every case. "No way. You really like everything?" Blink. "Even umeboshi?" No reaction. "But you know what umeboshi is?" Blink. "Wow, I hate umeboshi, too. We're quite a match..."

He occupied himself with salad, drinking water from the bottle.

"Maybe I could make you some tea, Doctor?" the nurse offered. Her name was Calla, according to a tag.

"I won't say no to green tea," Law muttered. "Thanks."

Calla got up and left, while Law went on with his meal and conversation. "You know, Pelo, we have the best restaurant in the world, here on Raftel. It's the All Baratie, have you heard about it? No? But you've heard about the Pirate King, haven't you? You see, the head chef of the All Baratie, Sanji, used to be the personal cook of the Pirate King and has been renowned already since. His dishes are heaven in mouth, I'm sure you haven't ever eaten anything like that. _I_ hadn't ever eaten anything like that..." He spared a moment to tell about the culinary wonders that the former cook of the Straw Hats could prepare, and about the very common dishes that Sanji could turn into something else. "If you like, we can have a dinner there, once you recover. What do you think?"

No reaction, which meant a negative... Law felt disappointed, although he understood he shouldn't have expected anything else.

"You don't want?" he muttered, putting the empty box on the table, and added without thinking, "You can't stand me that much?"

Again, no reaction.

Law frowned. "Now I have no idea..." he admitted before asking in a lower voice, "Are you still bothered by what I told you the other day? Even though I've been trying to convince you it's not how I really think...?"

No reaction. Well, he'd asked two questions, so no wonder he hadn't got any answer.

"Okay, I got confused myself, sorry..." he mumbled. "I'll make it easier. To begin with, do you even want to talk about it, Pelo?"

Blink.

Law smiled lightly at the funny sensation in his chest. It was a good start. "I'm glad. Then, let's start from the most basic things... Are you scared of me?" he asked.

Rosapelo didn't blink, and Law was amazed at how relieved he was.

"Thanks..." he muttered. "Maybe it sounds stupid, but I really wasn't sure of that. And do you..."

He stopped. The question stuck in his throat. He pressed his lips together and averted Rosapelo's eyes... only to look at the boy again the next moment. It seemed to him that a wrinkle glimpsed on Rosapelo's forehead, but it happened so fast he couldn't be sure. He grabbed a bottle and drank its content.

The boy was still giving him an intent look, and Law was certain he was waiting for the question. He scolded himself in thought. What was he doing? He should maintain and deepen the contact with Rosapelo; sitting in silence was pointless, and besides... The longer he delayed it, the harder it would be to resume talking. He already knew he wanted to learn the answer; he couldn't be a coward and avoid asking the question.

"Pelo, do you hate me?" he forced himself to say it and then spent three seconds in a freezing fear that he would get an affirmative.

Yet, Rosapelo didn't blink this time, either. Law slowly let the air out of his lungs. The feeling of relief welled up in his chest... but the next moment it was frozen by a nasty suspicion that the boy wasn't being honest. His fingers clutched at the fabric of his trousers as he tried to understand that paradox.

Did he really hate himself so much as to expect only hatred of others? Did he consider his mistakes to be too big to ever be forgiven? Did he really think he didn't deserve anything but dislike from Rosapelo?

But even if it was the truth, one he feared and sentenced himself for... he realised he _didn't want_ it. He didn't want Rosapelo to hate him. Maybe he was a hypocrite. Maybe he'd just forgotten about that feeling: being an object of hatred. Wasn't it why he'd opened this hospital and become a miracle-doctor, in the first place: to obscure the belief he deserved only contempt...?

One thought stopped him on that spiral of self-accusations that could take him all the way down: it wasn't fair to Rosapelo to attribute Law's own feelings to the boy. Even if he was a twisted man himself, he wasn't allowed to assume that everyone else was too.

"Really, Pelo?" he whispered, staring at the blue eyes. "You don't hate me?"

A blink. An affirmative.

What else could he do if not believe it? It was not like he wanted to go on knowing that the boy hated him. He tried to smile, but he was aware it'd turned out pretty weak.

"You'll have to say it in words one day," he muttered and rubbed his face with both hands.

It was when Mirva entered the room, holding a mug with a familiar scent coming from it. The personnel commonly used a specific kind of green tea - a powdered one to be poured with a very hot water - although the canteen served several kinds of tea. Law took the mug and drank a bit. Rosapelo didn't avert his eyes, and they spent a moment just staring at each other.

Had the boy forgiven him? Just like that? But Law had hurt him, and when Rosapelo had needed support, not hate, on top of that... Had it required so little for him to decide that what had happened was the matter of the past? Whichever it was, Law knew he should be happy... he should humbly accept what he was being given, even though there was that sensation in his chest he couldn't really figure out. Once again, he came to the conclusion he didn't want to be an object of hatred, not for Rosapelo. To be hated by Rosapelo seemed awfully upsetting...

'I didn't want you to hate me.' Those words suddenly came to his mind, clenching his heart. He opened his eyes wider, then pressed his lips in a thin line and put the mug on the table, for he feared to break it, as his hands started trembling.

Was that... Was that how _Cora-san_ had felt all that time they'd spent together? The situation had been completely different, he told himself immediately, completely different... but what did it matter? Contrary to Rosapelo, Law had showed his dislike constantly. He'd really hated him, he really hadn't wanted to stay with him... What if Cora-san had felt guilty about having taken him for that trip and forced him to go through the hospital hell...? Maybe he'd felt guilty about having withheld the truth about himself, too? And Law, behaving the way he had, had made it clear he'd hated him so much... Cora-san had spent half a year with a kid whose animosity he could be certain of - and he hadn't given up on helping him regardless.

Law remembered that smile, that reaction to Law having called him 'Cora-san' for the first time. He remembered the night preceding it, when he'd heard something he shouldn't have heard and what had made him believe that there'd been still someone in the world who'd cared about him and who'd considered him a human. Those words had melted the ice around his heart, reminding him of his humanity he'd thought he'd already thrown away... Cora-san had felt for him, and it had been enough for Law to forgive him everything, although he'd known he'd stopped hating him already before, sometime over the course of those six months of their journey.

Nevertheless, he suspected that Cora-san had remained uncertain until the very end... hadn't believed that Law had no longer hated him... and yet he'd never turned back from his path. He'd decided to save Law without thinking of his own welfare and despite what Law might think of him. If only Law had told him how he'd really felt... If only Law had managed to response to that confession... then Cora-san wouldn't have left believing that-...

"Dr Law...?" Mirva's gentle voice broke his reverie.

He tore his hand from his eyes and stared at her before looking at Rosapelo. He shook his head. "Sorry, I remembered something..." he muttered, trying to shake off that sudden distraction and come back to the present.

He moved to the edge of the chair and put his elbows on his knees. His chest felt heavy under the unpleasant weight - it was one of those moments he felt like the most wretched person in the world and couldn't understand what had driven Cora-san to do what he'd done - but he tried to pay no attention to it. His own feelings were of no importance here... and yet he asked once more, "Say it with words... will you, Pelo?" although he had no idea if it would change anything.

The boy didn't reply... but at least he didn't decline, and Law decided there was still hope. However, he had to change the topic... the mood... He hadn't come here to sink in self-analysis, only to help his patient. He glanced at the clock: it was a quarter to twelve.

"I still have fifteen minutes," he said, looking at Rosapelo again. "What should we speak about? We talked that it would be nice to have a dinner in the All Baratie... Ah, we still have onigiri. I'm going to eat mine, and you? It's there," he added in a casual manner, pointing at the rice ball in foil, lying on the bed cover.

In his case, dejection had never been a reason to give up eating, although his condition was far from the boy's depression, too... Besides, he really liked onigiri. He took his own snack from the table, unwrapped it and smelled.

"I think it's tuna again, I'm really lucky today..."

He took one bite, and then another. Rosapelo was observing his consumption with intent blue eyes, and Law hoped the sight would stimulate his appetite a bit, for even 'a bit' would make a huge and meaningful difference.

"Onigiri is one of my absolutely favourite dishes," he announced and drank some tea. He started at the rice ball in his fingers. "You know, I don't think there's many things even more perfect than it... Raftel's onigiri are really great. We get a regular delivery of Wano rice, and the fish... Well, since the All Blue is round the corner, you can trust the quality. You really should eat... or, at least, try," he encouraged the boy and bit his snack again to soon finish it.

Rosapelo's hand twitched on the cover, making Law's heart skip a beat. He didn't show it, only licked the rice grains from his fingers and drank tea again. Over the mug, he observed the boy's arm slowly move to the side and touch onigiri. Rosapelo looked down on the snack and tried to grab it, but it seemed he was too weak.

Law reached towards him and, as the boy didn't react, bent his elbow, put the onigiri in his palm and held it up, so that Rosapelo could see it.

"It seems that you're pretty weak after disease. The more reason that you started eating," he said in a serious voice. "Do you remember how long have you been staying here, Pelo? Two weeks. It's high time that you start recovering, don't you think?"

The boy turned his face to the window and tried to break his arm free, although it came out merely as a weak twitch. Law let his hand fall on the cover again, and put onigiri in the same place.

"It would be good if you started eating," he repeated. "If you don't, you'll just become weaker and weaker. Soon, you won't be able to even more your neck... or open your eyes. Maybe..." He frowned when an unexpected idea occurred to him. "Maybe I could feed you the next time...?"

Rosapelo looked at him again, and this time Law thought there was some surprise, maybe even outrage in his gaze... but, of course, he probably imagined it, once more attributing his own reactions to the boy... He smiled, although he was pretty much nervous.

"Two o'clock. Two hours from now," he said, mustering his most cheerful tone. "Milk soup would be good. I'd really like to put you off that drip already... And once you're stronger, you'll be able to eat onigiri, it's a good plan, don't you think?"

Rosapelo probably didn't think, but it could also be that the lack of blinking resulted from his bewilderment, Law had no idea. Himself, he was still surprised by his own words, although, he quickly decided, there was nothing stupid to them. The boy _really_ needed a normal food. Law was the only person in contact with him, so why not try? Did he have anything to lose?

"Okay, I'm off now," he said, getting up, somewhat relieved to be able to run away as Rosapelo wouldn't stop piercing him with his gaze. "I'll be back at two. Mirva, could you arrange the meal?"

"Of course," the nurse assured him, and her eyes were glittering.

Law had no doubt she wanted to see him feeding Rosapelo. He sighed inwardly, leaving the room. Well, at the very most, the bowl would land on his head... Only, he realised the next moment, if something like that happened, it would be a good thing. Unfortunately, the main problem was that the boy was too weak.

The vision of what was awaiting him at 2 PM made him pretty much distracted - feeding an ill boy filled him with much more apprehension than any medical procedure - and when a surgical intern presented him a case, he managed to answer completely beside the point, provoking quite a dismay in the present doctors. Only the familiar psychiatric resident kept his wits, for he whispered in a theatrical voice from the back row, "Director, Director...! He wasn't asking about colonic polypectomy, only tonsillectomy...!"

Law focused his eyes on him, recalling his own speech and the depicted access route to the organ, and felt like blushing.

"Thank you, Dr Antero," he muttered. "I'm glad that you pay attention also to the surgical cases, too."

"I must admit that surgery was my other option when deciding about my residency," the doctor revealed proudly, and Law felt shiver running down his spine.

"I think that you made a good choice, Doctor," he said with moderate praise.

Personally, he was of the opinion that surgeons and psychiatrists were two extremes in medicine, and he couldn't imagine any sensible connection between those two groups. He had no idea why a psychiatric resident participated in those consultations, in the first place, since it was obvious he wouldn't be able to learn anything from Law. He probably came to spy for Clione... or was driven by another, equally strange motivation. One could never know, when the psychiatrists were in question.

"In any case, I'm grateful for correcting me. And I apologise to everyone for having let my mind drift. A patient's case is, um, occupying my thought quite much," he explained, coming to the conclusion he was being honest. "Resuming the topic... Dr Bortelli, colorectal polyps can be removed by..."

He suspected that scene would become a hospital anecdote that at least half of the personnel would never believe in, but he didn't care about it as much as he should. After all, just like Clione had said today, he _was_ the greatest doctor in the world, and for that single thing he could be forgiven everything. At two o'clock he was back on the Seven, but not so enthusiastic as before. Still, he'd made a decision and didn't mean to turn away... although he feared that feeding the boy might end in something much worse than embarrassing himself before his colleagues.

In Rosapelo's room, he found a bowl with milk soup that smelled like... well, like milk soup. It was on the table, being completely ignored by the patient, who once more focused his attention solely on Law. Onigiri was when it had been left.

"I'm back, Pelo," Law said, sitting on the chair and doing his best to hide his nervousness, that again neared the accepted limit.

They should deal with it quickly... He glanced at Mirva, who was sitting on the other side of bed and observing the two of them with a supporting smile. He suppressed a sigh. He couldn't actually tell her to leave...

He looked at the boy. "Then? Shall we start your meal?" he asked with every intention to sound cheerful.

Rosapelo didn't move nor did his eyelashes; he was still staring at Law with gaze being interpreted as an absolute refusal. Despite that, praying in his thought that his hands didn't tremble, Law took the bowl from the table and spooned a portion of soup. The bowl was warm but not hot, so he decided the temperature was just right. He focused his eyes on the boy.

"You know, I have a fondness to milk soup," he said, hoping to defuse the atmosphere. "When I was eight, I fell ill with mononucleosis. It's a nasty infectious disease that attacks the tonsils, amongst others. My throat was so sore I couldn't eat at all for several days. I couldn't even drink, and breathing itself was painful. When the therapy started to work and the pain diminished, milk soup was the first meal I could swallow down. Believe me, that moment it tasted like heaven..." he muttered. "Now it's your turn."

He moved the spoon to the boy's lips, but Rosapelo turned his head to the window. Law suppressed another sigh. It seemed it wouldn't work... He placed the bowl onto his lap and put the spoon in.

"Pelo... I'm not going to feed you by force," he said quietly. "But I'd be really happy if you ate. When I told you that you will soon become too weak to even move your head, it wasn't a lie. We doctors don't lie about such things," he emphasised. "I suppose it's all the same to you, but I... I really want you to recover. It's not right when a kid like you..." He stopped, as yet another memory came to his mind. "It's too sad..." he said dully, as if he were repeating the words he'd heard long ago.

It iwas/i too sad. He didn't want to yield to that sadness or give up without the fight... But what could he do? How could he influence that boy... how restore his will to live? Could words be enough? Were there the words to make Rosapelo want to live again? Ah, they probably were... only that Trafalgar Law wasn't the right person to say them, for it was not him the boy needed.

Still - he forced himself to keep thinking - he was the only person that Rosapelo came in contact with, consciously and willingly. Whatever drove the boy, Law couldn't grasp, but it didn't change the fact that he was the only man to make a difference. He mustn't give up. He'd achieved so much in just two days...!

"Pelo, do you remember what I told you before?" he tried again. "That I would dance of joy if you felt better? That too was true. I want more than anything that you recover. It pains me to see you ill," he said honestly, in a serious voice. "Yesterday, I mentioned to you about that lethal disease I went down with when I was a bit younger than you are now... That time, someone I'd never expect it of, said exactly those words, 'It's too sad when you speak of dying...' He showed his sympathy for me."

His fingers grabbed the bowl tighter. He'd never told anyone of it... but now seemed a right time. Rosapelo didn't need his experience as a doctor but as a man. Law could help him not by who he was, but by what he'd been given in the similar situation. Now was the right moment to share it.

"Those words changed me... helped me... They made me feel I wasn't alone in the world... that there was someone who cared about me. You're not alone in the world, either, because... because I care about you." He became silent for a while; his ears were humming. "I know it's not me who you need, but... you do listen to me, see me and answer me. You haven't given up, haven't gone away. You haven't thrown me out of your world. I think that what I say means something to you... right? That's why... I'm not going to feed you by force... but maybe you could eat some of this? Won't you do it for me...? Pelo...?"

The teenager was still looking at the window, as if he were admiring the scenery, but Law was strangely certain that the boy, just like himself, could barely see the shimmer on the waves and the gulls flying over the sea. His heart was beating fast as he waited for Rosapelo's response, any reaction... and the more time passed, the smaller his hope was turning, replaced by cold disappointment. After all, his words couldn't do anything... Cora-san's words could change the world of the small boy, but his own didn't have such power. It was a bitter realisation, but could he have expected anything else...? Oh, but he had, he'd really expected it - if he hadn't, he wouldn't feel so down now - but there was no help for the obvious things... He wasn't Cora-san; he was only Trafalgar Law.

"I'm sorry I insisted," he said quietly, trying to hide his feelings. Rosapelo didn't need his bitterness, and Law had long since decided to never direct any negative emotions at him. "We'll do it when you feel like, yourself," he added and lifted the bowl from his lap to put it on the table.

The same moment Rosapelo turned his head again and looked at him. Then his gaze moved down to the bowl that Law was still holding in his hands before taking the eye contact again.

Law gulped when a sudden emotion clenched his heart. "You..." He cleared his throat. "You want to eat...?" he asked in a low voice, barely believing what he was seeing.

Blink.

Law was staring in the blue eyes, suddenly unable to move or say anything. He was under the impression that everything had disappeared, only that thin, pale face of the boy with great penetrating eyes existed. He thought that never before had he been so aware of the other person's existence... and its importance to himself. Thousands of ideas flooded his mind, but something was stronger then they: a feeling that welled up in him, close to happiness.

It hadn't happened for thirteen years that he'd felt this way because of his patient's recovery. Maybe medicine wasn't there to give people happiness. Maybe one could experience it only doing _other_ things.

"Dr Law...?"

It was the second time today that Mirva's voice brought him down to earth. He focused his gaze on Rosapelo's intense, blue eyes. All sadness, dejection and disappointment was gone, and that nasty weight finally lifted up from his chest. He felt light at heart. He smiled and pressed the spoon to the boy's pale lips; his hand was trembling only slightly.

When they were finished - the boy had eaten almost everything - Law commented in his style, "I think that we did a good job, for a first pass," and it seemed to him that Rosapelo's eyes said he thought exactly the same.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Law couldn't believe he'd managed to persuade Rosapelo into eating, and even twice. In the evening, when he was done with new admissions, he decided to pay the boy an unexpected visit - much to his joy, Rosapelo was awake - and it ended in the consumption of the onigiri that was left from the lunch. Actually, Law had to feed it to the boy, but the patient ate with enthusiasm nonetheless... or that was how Law decided to interpret the fact that Rosapelo devoured the rice ball with salmon without protesting. Since Law had a lot of paper work and preparations for tomorrow's surgeries, he quickly took his leave, promising to come the next morning, before 8 AM.

Reality, however, upset his applecart in a nasty way. The next day, just as he was finishing the morning procedures - he'd waked up past 3 AM again - his personal Den Den Mushi emitted the emergency signal informing that Law's assistance was being required _immediately_. In other words, someone's life was at stake. Along with the signal came the detailed location: this time, it was the second room in the operating theatre of the surgery department. Such signals happened a few times per year, and they meant in practice that Law ceased doing whatever he was doing and teleported via ROOM to the indicated position. Emergency in the operating theatre was usually caused by a sudden cardiac arrest with asystole, either as the complication of narcosis or the surgery itself.

"Man, twenty-six," Uni informed when Law appeared by the operating table and narrowed the Ope Ope no Mi activity to the patient. The head of the surgery department seemed to have rushed into the room some two seconds before Law himself. "Necrotising pancreatitis. A sudden haemorrhage during the scheduled operation, cardiac arrest due to hypovolemic shock, asystole."

With his Devil Fruit, Law reached inside the patient's chest and started the direct heart massage, simultaneously trying to find the source of the bleeding. The transfusion had been already started, but it wouldn't work unless the haemorrhage wasn't stopped. Still, no matter how he searched, he couldn't see any damage to the arteries; it seemed that the small vessels were bleeding, which indicated the coagulation disorder. In that case...

"Administer intravenously the prothrombin concentrate and Vitamin K," he ordered as he kept massaging. "And then platelet transfusion."

The staff started to execute his orders immediately. Law tried to close all bleeding vessels, but it was only a supportive action, for they were many of them, and of the microscopic diameter.

"Platelet dysfunction?" Uni asked and stared at the both operating surgeons before looking at the anaesthesiologist. "Damn."

Law nodded and said nothing; he kept massaging the patients heart to maintain the flow of blood from lungs to the brain and the cardiac muscle itself. Platelet dysfunction couldn't be exposed by the routine preoperative examination, although, if it was congenital, then the patients usually knew of it before meeting the surgeon. That man here was young and probably pretty healthy so far, with no chronic diseases, so Law could assume that the surgeon in charge of his treatment had had no reason to suspect such a disorder.

The platelet transfusion was started, and the haemorrhage finally stopped; the new blood quickly filled the patient's vessels. Law induced the electric activity in the sinoatrial mode, restarting the heart action.

"Maybe I take care of that pancreas while I'm at it, okay?" he said to the operating surgeons.

Of course, they agreed. To tell the truth, they both seemed mortified, although Law was far from blaming them. He knew that every doctor was prone to reproach themselves for everything, even if they didn't do anything bad.

Because of its location, the surgeries on pancreas were very risky, and Law wasn't amazed that the patient had been sent to Raftel, even if the disease itself didn't require the Ope Ope no Mi.. That was, _normally_ it didn't require. The level of surgery in the Corazon Memorial Hospital, just like all other medical areas, was just the highest. Law guessed that the patient lived on one of the Four Islands, and the local surgeons hadn't dared to operate on him...

The necrotic pancreas was a nasty disease, in and of itself, but for Law's Devil Fruit everything was possible. He removed all pathology and, as a bonus, he rebuilt the parenchyma of the organ. Later, they should perform some diagnostics to know if the platelet dysfunction was congenital or caused by some external factor. The option that the patient had simply eaten lots of aspirin in order to ease his pain and had forgotten to tell his doctor about it, was one of the most lucid.

"I think he's fine now," he said, having finished the surgery. He looked at the monitor: the man's vitals were in norm. "You may close him. By the way..." He stared at the surgeons. "Which of you is in charge of his treatment? You should give the patient a morali... I mean, an educational lecture about the healthy lifestyle, especially in regard to the alcohol consumption. The explicit depiction of what happened today wouldn't harm him... In other words, you should make him understand that he was miraculously saved," he ordered with a proper dose of sarcasm.

The surgeon in question promised to do so. Uni smiled wryly from his spot by the wall that he'd spent the whole operation in, before nodding in approval and appreciation. Law withdrew from the operating table and used the Ope Ope no Mi to sterilise his clothes and skin; other patients waited for him, and he had no time to change. He looked at the clock: it was past eight, which meant he was already late for his scheduled surgeries, and he still had to finish what he'd left on the paediatrics. He could as well forget about visiting the Seven now; he would go there before the consultations. He informed Shachi and Penguin he would be slightly late, and contacted Clione to ask him to explain his absence to Rosapelo. Then he teleported to the paediatrics in order to waste no more time.

After eleven, when he was finally free, he used the same method to go to the hall of the seventh floor and headed for the psychiatry right away. Even though his stomach demanded food, he'd given up on the lunch, deciding to take a salad to the consultations. He just _had_ to see Rosapelo, and nothing would persuade him otherwise. When he entered the boy's room - he'd managed to get used to this place already - he felt relieved, and despite meeting the head of the Seven there.

"You're done?" Clione asked upon seeing him.

"Yeah, but I had the next work afterwards," Law muttered and turned to the boy. "Hi, Pelo!"

Rosapelo was half-lying on the pillow, his eyes fixed at some point which certainly wasn't Clione, even though the psychiatrist was standing exactly in front of him, leaning forward with his elbows on the board of the bed.

"I'm sorry I couldn't come in the morning. There was an emergency case requiring my assistance," Law explained, sitting on the chair.

The boy didn't react.

"I think that Pelo is upset today," Clione said in a calm voice.

Law cast him a surprised look and then frowned at the thought that occurred to him. No, it was impossible. Not even a psychiatrists should be able to ascertain something like that in a person who kept lying and showed no emotions.

Unless...

"Why do you think so?"

"He protested against the drip."

Law curved his lips deprecatingly. "And that should prove he's upset? Maybe he doesn't want it anymore? Maybe he wants to eat normally? He ate yesterday, after all."

"Well, not today," Clione informed in that composed tone of his.

Again, Law stared at the boy, who wouldn't show any interest in him. Of course, it could be that with the arrival of the new day Rosapelo had returned to his previous attitue, that was giving up on living, regardless of what had happened yesterday... In that case, Law had a work to do, but it wasn't like he hadn't been prepared for it.

"Pelo, do you agree with what our favourite psychiatrist is saying?" he asked. "I don't believe you wouldn't eat something delicious," he muttered, wondering inwardly if milk soup could be counted as it. Well, after two weeks of starving it probably could. "Yesterday you did great."

Rosapelo was still staring ahead, as if he didn't hear. Law frowned again. Yesterday, everything had gone smoothly: the boy had come into contact with him the moment Law had appeared here. Was it Clione's presence that disturbed him...? But yesterday he hadn't cared about the nurse staying in the room the whole time. Well, maybe he particularly disliked the psychiatrists, such things happened all the time. Now, how could Law diplomatically ask Clione to go away from his own patient's room...?

Talking about food made him even more hungry; his stomach made it clear to everyone what it thought of such prolonged intervals between meals.

"Law, when was the last time you ate?" the psychiatrist asked.

"I ate breakfast," Law replied with irritation.

"I think it's already lunch time...?" Clione straightened himself up.

Law glanced at him askance. "Then, maybe you can make yourself useful and bring me a big sized salad from the canteen, when you're here already?" he muttered. "You're distracting me," he added with faked complaint. "Leave us alone, would you?"

Clione curved his lips in a sneer and rolled his eyes. "What salad?" he asked.

"With fish. And two onigiri. With anything but umeboshi. And something to drink. Yesterday, Mirva made me some green tea, thanks."

"My nurses make you tea?"

"She offered it herself!" Law defended himself.

The psychiatrist shook his head in a faked disapproval - had they been alone, he would've undoubtedly smack him on the head - and left.

Law turned to the boy, who didn't pay any attention to all that. "Sorry for that chit-chat. Clione and I... we've been knowing each other for ages, so we often banter like that." 'Banter' didn't seem the most proper word to capture their relationship, but Rosapelo didn't necessarily need to know that. "You see? He was as kind as to bring me lunch, so don't think poorly of him. The other onigiri is for you, of course."

Still no reaction. The boy was lying on the bed, as if he didn't hear him at all.

"Pelo...?"

Law became anxious. Well, that was how Rosapelo had been for the last two weeks, but not yesterday. Yesterday, he would look at Law, communicate with him by blinking and even try to move, to say nothing of eating. Today, he was once more that 'living dead' from before, who didn't wish for any contact. Why? Had his condition taken a turn for the worse?

Law activated the Ope Ope no Mi to assess the level of the physiological arousal in the boy. It was exactly like it had been earlier when Law had spoken to him. There was no deterioration, which should be comforting, but...

Clione had said that Rosapelo was in a bad mood today. Even if Law had decided it to be a nonsense, at first, now he wondered if the psychiatrist wasn't right, after all.

"Pelo, are you upset?" he asked with hesitation.

No move. No blink. No stare. And yet the boy's heart beat faster, and the blood pressure increased. The adrenal glands released another portion of adrenaline and cortisol. Everything indicated he was upset indeed.

With Law.

Law asked himself what he'd done to have deserved the boy's resentment... Well, he quickly corrected himself with resignation, in addition to everything else: those previous terrible things he'd done to him. True, yesterday Rosapelo had 'said' he didn't hate him... Had he changed his mind? Had he decided to show how he really felt about Law...?

Once again, Law felt that load in his chest, the one that had weighed upon him yesterday as he'd imagined that the boy hated him. Today he was even more certain he didn't want it... Still, he couldn't give in to the resignation, he realised immediately. He came here to help the boy. His priority was to make him recover. It was why he'd decided to spend his every free moment here and spare no effort to make Rosapelo feel better. Every free moment...

Ah.

"Pelo, are you mad at me for not having come this morning?" he asked with a sense of defeat.

Physiology informed him it was the case. Law stifled a sigh of irritation.

"I told you I had an emergency," he said patiently. "One of the patients required my immediate help. I had to operate on him to save his life. I'm responsible for every patient in this hospital. In situations like that, I drop everything... _everything_, Pelo, because saving one's life has the greatest priority. Every doctor does so. You must understand it. You can't-"

He stopped and then pressed his lips in a thin line. What had he wanted to say? 'You can't usurp me?' But he'd promised himself to never criticise the boy, never reproach him again, and that was what he was doing now. No, it wasn't the right direction, and he had to turn back before it was too late. He had to look at the situation from _Rosapelo's_ point of view, not his own.

And once he did, all options fell on him like an avalanche, and the effect displeased him. The truth was he'd broken his promise, no matter the reason. Rosapelo didn't care about his explanation; he felt hurt, and that was all. Law had promised to come and then hadn't come. Maybe the boy had believed he would never come again? Maybe, regardless of Clione's message, he'd spent three, four hours, thinking that the only person he wanted to communicate with, would never appear? Maybe he'd reproached himself for it? Maybe he'd blamed himself for it? Maybe he'd felt betrayed? It was possible that his ailing mind - the psychotic depression was still a proper diagnosis in his case - magnified everything, attributed the unnatural proportion to every matter...

Law took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," he said honestly, for it was all he could do now. "I promised to come, and yet I didn't. There was an important reason for that, but it doesn't change the fact that I hurt you... failed you. I'm sorry, Pelo. I know, I've been apologising to you all the time..." he muttered with irony before assuming the serious tone again. "I really wanted to see you. I even waked up early to make it possible to spend that half an hour with you in the morning. I guess you waited for me to come, too, and I then didn't come. Believe me, it didn't happen because I didn't want to come here, only because I couldn't. I really wanted to talk with you, maybe even help you with your breakfast. Pelo... Could you give me one more chance?" he asked, fearing that he'd spoiled something that couldn't be repaired. "Please. I really wish for everything to be like it was yesterday..."

He made himself stop talking, for he sounded hysterical and didn't give the boy any room for replying, whatever it might be. Rosapelo's heart was beating fast, but the level of cortisol wasn't raising anymore. Law felt hope. Maybe the boy had an unlimited ability to forgive, which was more common in children than adults...? He suddenly realised he knew that from experience, when his mind was invaded by the freezingly cold and blazingly hot memory of the last promise that... _Cora-san_ had made to him - and hadn't kept, maybe hadn't intend to keep it from the beginning... And then the memory of Law roaming around Swallow, where they'd been meant to meet, half-dead and more than half-insane, knowing deep inside that Cora-san would never come there... and knowing that he'd forgiven him that... forgiven him everything... and had only wished that Cora-san returned.

He gasped for air and clenched his teeth, trying to drive those pictures from his mind. He focused his eyes on Rosapelo, whom he should think of now. Cora-san... Cora-san hadn't returned - but Law had. He'd come here again and planned to keep coming. As long as it took.

"Even though I couldn't visit you in the morning, I knew I would do it a bit later. I didn't give up, not for a moment," he ensured in a firm voice, although he was trembling all over inside. Such was the price of interacting with another man, he thought distractedly: a constant uncertainty caused by the fact that another person had their own free will and made their own decisions. He could only _try_ to convince him. "I like to spend time with you, Pelo, so I eagerly awaited our meeting. Everything went great yesterday, and I was in a very good mood for the rest of the day. How could I want to end it? I don't intend to. So, I hope that you aren't done with me...?"

Finally, Rosapelo turned his head towards him. He didn't do anything else, only stared at him with the intent gaze of his blue eyes... and yet Law felt relieved. He had no idea if the boy had forgiven him, but he at least had decided against shutting him out of his life, that was certain. Law had to do his best so that the boy didn't even consider doing so.

He smiled, although he was aware it turned out quite crooked. "One of these days, I'm going to have a heart attack because of you," he muttered without thinking and deactivated the Ope Ope no Mi.

And the darkness fell.

* * *

"...-aw-san... Law-san...!"

Brushing off a hand nudging his head, Law sat up and gasped for air. He had the impression of suffocating, but it receded after he took a couple of deep breaths. He run one hand through his hair, trying to orientate himself in the situation. It seemed he'd just fainted... Again, and in broad daylight, on the wa-..."

He froze, turning his head and meeting the anxious gaze of the blue eyes. Rosapelo.

"I'm all right," Law said, for it was the first thing that occurred to him. "I'm all right."

The next second he realised that _Rosapelo_ was giving him an _anxious_ look. The blank expression that had accompanied him for two weeks had vanished off the boy's face, and now there was a distinct emotion on it: fear. No wonder, Law thought sarcastically. One moment a guy talked to him, the next one he dropped dead. It was a good thing Law was sitting by the bed; thanks to that, he'd fallen on the cover. Ah, it explained why he'd been suffocating, with his nose and mouth in the linen...

Rosapelo had every right to be frightened, like every kid witnessing an adult fainting. Law remembered the last words he'd said to him, and felt like hitting his head.

"I don't have a heart attack," he assured the boy, who was still regarding him with anxiety, and added with emphasis, "I only fainted, it sometimes happens to me when I use the Ope Ope no Mi too much. But I'm all right now, I really am. Sorry for having scared you. No need to worry about me. I probably slept too little, and there's some time since the last time I ate, too..." He kept blurting out the explanations, whatever he managed to think of... He would say anything to calm down that kid and make him stop looking like death. It was a good thing that the boy had started to show emotions, but did it really need to be negative ones...? "But I'm not ill, nothing like that. I feel all right, Pelo."

He glanced at the clock. It was only eleven thirty, so his fainting had lasted but a moment. Clione hadn't returned from the canteen yet; it was only the two of them here. He looked at the boy again.

"Pelo, won't you tell anyone...?" he asked. "They would be worried, while there's no reason for that. And this time I came to quick-"

He stopped short. His heart had just managed to calm down after the sudden agitation, and now it accelerated again and was beating like it was trying to jump out of his chest. His eyes grew wide like saucers. He remembered that the moment he'd come to, he'd felt the fingers touching his hair. And he'd heard a voice. He'd heard his name, being repeated in a pressing manner. There was _no-one_ but the two of them here, and he certainly hadn't had hallucinations, despite being on the psychiatry. Insanity wasn't airborne.

"Pelo... Did you call me...?" he uttered. It sounded like a question, although he could be perfectly sure of that... right? Well, maybe he wasn't, maybe it wasn't easy for him to believe that... "You called my name... you tried to wake me up... You did wake me up...!"

Rosapelo turned his face away without a word and pulled his arm closer... the right arm that had been on the very edge of the bed... where Law's head had been just a moment earlier.

Law would have never expected he would admit it: even syncope could have positive results... and _his own_ syncope, on top of that, even though it'd brought him only harm so far.

He was still shocked by what had happened, although it was quite a happy shock. "Pelo... You called me...! You waked me up...! It's thanks to you that I regained my consciousness," he said ardently. "Thanks, Pelo! Really, thank you. If not for you, I would've lain like a log until Clione were back and panicked before bringing the whole of the hospital here, or at least Chopper..." he muttered and then shook his head. "But it doesn't matter. Like I said, I sometimes faint like that, the last time happened in December, if I'm correct. I bet they've already grown accustomed to it... What matters is that you helped me."

Rosapelo kept staring at the window.

"I'm sorry for talking about heart attack... It must've scared you. I must mind my words and not talk without thinking," Law went on with some displeasure, but he felt like smiling at the same time. "I didn't have a heart attack... but since I almost choked on the linen, we may take it that you saved my life, Pelo." It was an exaggeration, but it couldn't hurt anyone. "I think you should be proud of yourself. Thank you."

Finally, Rosapelo turned his head to look at him. The scared expression on his face started to fade.

Law smiled wider and nodded. "I'm happy," he said and noticed the boy's eyes grew wider, so he nodded once more, with conviction. "I really am. And I think that, in fact... you may tell Clione about everything," he added casually.

Rosapelo's lips twitched, and then the boy lightly shook his head - first left, then right - to refuse.

"Fine, so you won't tell," Law muttered... and stretched one hand to him. "We have a deal."

Rosapelo lowered his eyes on the offered hand to stare at it for several seconds before lifting his own one, slowly and with effort that could be seen in the tremble of its muscles. Law grabbed and squeezed it, looking the boy in the eye, before grinning again. He couldn't contain his happiness, and he hoped to infect Rosapelo with it, too. Unlike insanity, happiness could be transmitted much faster.

It was that moment that Clione chose for returning from his mission of providing Law with lunch. "I have a salmon salad and two onigiri, like you asked," he informed, passing the provisions to Law, and then took out a bottle from the pocket of his white coat. "Here is water. A nurse will bring tea soon."

"Thanks..."

"My, you're full of the joys of springs now. Has anything nice happened when I was out?" the psychiatrist asked, shifting the gaze between Law and Rosapelo. Like always, hardly anything could escape his attention.

"It has indeed. But it's a secret," Law replied, blinking at the boy. "In any case, Pelo's mood has already improved," he revealed and started to examine the groceries on his lap, before looking at the little patient again. "Now, the most important thing. Is it true that you haven't eaten today, Pelo?"

The boy affirmed, blinking.

"Don't you blink at me," Law decided, and Rosapelo glanced at Clione, who had taken his favourite place at the feet of the bed. Law guessed the boy didn't want, couldn't or feared to speak in the presence of someone else. "Okay, we'll talk about it later... But the matter of eating must be addressed now. I bet you waited for me, right? You liked being fed yesterday, so much...?"

The boy stared at him with hesitation before nodding, although Law had no idea which question he was answering to.

"Then, am I correct to presume you'll gladly have this onigiri? And milk soup when I come later?"

This time, the nod happened right away.

"Great," Law decided and unwrapped the rice ball. "Will you manage by yourself?"

Rosapelo scrutinised the onigiri in his hand before looking him in the eye again. He clearly wasn't certain.

"You should try," Law encouraged him. "I'll help you if needed."

The boy bent his elbows and raised his hands. Law put the snack in his fingers and watched Rosapelo eat. Just like yesterday, the boy took the small bites and slowly chew. When he grew too weak to keep the onigiri, Law did it for him and then helped him to drink some water. Rosapelo fell back onto the pillows. He seemed tired but wouldn't avert his eyes.

"You did great," Law praised him and glanced at the clock. "Now it's my turn. I'm really starving..."

As he ate, drinking the tea brought by a nurse, Clione took over the conversation. "I'm glad you feel better, Pelo," he said, and the boy looked at him before staring at Law again. "Your recovery is getting more obvious with every passing day. And it's really splendid that you're able to eat; it's the most important thing now. That's our hospital director for you," he added with a crooked smile. "He affects people in a good way... for the most of the time."

"For the most of the time," Law agreed, munching his food.

"But Law can't be here all the time," the psychiatrist continued. "Won't you let someone else to help you with eating...? Pelo...?"

Rosapelo shook his head slightly.

"I come here at eight, eleven, two, and seven," Law listed, having swallowed another bit of salmon. "It's like breakfast, lunch, dinner, and supper. I think it's enough for now...?" he asked both Clione and the boy, and neither of them objected. "But if it happened that I _won't be able_ to come because of some emergency, then it would be good, Pelo, if you let someone help you..."

Rosapelo looked away and didn't reply. It was obvious he didn't like the idea.

"Think of it," Law asked him calmly; he didn't plan to force him to anything. He took the last portion of his salad on the fork. "Only... can you promise me that when I'm here, you _will_ eat those four meals daily? Let's say... starting tomorrow? Then, we won't need a drip," he added encouragingly.

The boy stared at him intently for a moment before nodding.

"Great," Law said happily, putting the empty box aside. "What would you say if we made the whole list of meals for you when I'm back at two o'clock? I can assure you we have much wider diversity than just milk soup with rice and milk soup with noodles... although that's exactly what you're going to have for dinner today," he informed somewhat resignedly.

Rosapelo, however, nodded again, and Law gave him a wide smile, unwrapping his own onigiri.

"I'm glad. Twelve-years old boy should eat a lot."

Something flashed in Rosapelo's eyes, and he opened his mouth... only to close it the next moment. Whatever he wanted to say, and he clearly did, must have waited for the next occasion.

"Okay, I must go," Law announced, getting up. "I'll be back in two hours," he repeated, then devoured his onigiri in three bites and wiped his hands on the paper napkin.

"Milk soup will be ready," Clione promised, and Law graced him with a smile before leaving.

He was a whole minute late for the consultations, but he stifled the urge to teleport. It was just one floor, and, besides, he'd used the Ope Ope no Mi enough already. He told himself the world wouldn't end if he arrived two or even three minutes late... He could always put the blame on a dysfunctioning clock or something... and then realised he didn't need to explain himself before anyone.

Despite that he was jumping two steps at once, although this could result not only from the hurry but also his enthusiasm. He noticed that recently, every time he left Rosapelo's room, he felt light at heart... or most of the time. He smiled to himself. Well, it was much better than frustration or anger.

His good mood continued for the next two hours. The fact that he managed to keep from telling rubbish during the consultations, contributed to it, too. One person was probably disappointed: namely, the psychiatry resident. This time, Antero had brought two colleagues - Law remembered that one was from gynaecology and the other from orthopaedics - and there was a strong suspicion that he'd convinced them by the perspective of a good fun. As far as Law was concerned, he wouldn't put anything past the psychiatrists...

It was a real miracle that nowadays he kept coming to the Seven day by day of his own free will, and even several times per day, he thought with a crooked smile, opening the door to the said ward. After a few steps his smile turned warmer already.

"Law... Law...!" came a pressing whisper from the nurses station, and the next second Clione emerged from there. "Wait a moment."

Law obediently complied, although he wanted to see his patient already, not the said patient's psychiatrist.

"What?" he spat without malice. "I'm in a hurry."

"I'm glad that the poultice of Rosapelo works," Clione said.

Law raised one brow. "Not the opposite...?"

The psychiatrist observed him for a moment and seemed to want to say something very badly and refrain from doing so equally hard. In the end, he shrugged and stated in a snooty manner, "As you prefer." Then, however, enthusiasm could be hear in his voice and seen in his gaze. "The opposite is, too, right. Law, he's recovering before our very eyes...! I'm not talking about eating... Did you notice he pays attention to his surroundings? Even if he doesn't speak, he's in an obvious contact with others, at least in your presence. Normally, it would be the opposite, but we know that you're his anchor point in the reality. For now he doesn't want to notice anything else."

Law gave him an intent look. "He's going to speak today," he said after the pause. "Though I can't guarantee he will talk to _you_," he added in a critical tone, wondering if he wasn't retaliating against Clione for all those situations that the patients of the Seven hadn't even wanted to look at him and instead had craved for the head psychiatrist's help.

Clione, however, didn't seem to hold it against him. "That's out director for you," he repeated his words from two hours before. "The rest of us is no match for you..."

Law suppressed a sigh, remembering that the psychiatrists used to have quite a high threshold for teasing and it was very hard to be provoke them if they didn't want it themselves. In confrontation, a normal person had no chance, no matter how they tried...

"Let me remind you that the credit goes to you. If not for you, I would've never shown my face around Rosapelo again," he pointed out, and then something made him add, "Thanks," and this time his voice was much softer.

Surprise flashed in Clione's eyes, and then psychiatrist smiled with the corners of his lips. "Come on, I'm going to blush..." he said in an affected voice and even raised his hand to his chest in a theatrical gesture. "I won't say no to a bouquet of red roses as a thank-you."

"You can get one carnation, at the very most," Law retorted, losing at once all will to be nice that had surged in him a moment ago.

"Well... better a small fish than an empty dish," Clione replied slyly. "It will be the first time that you give me flowers. But make it red, okay? I'll look nice with it when we go to the All Baratie for a dinner," he added casually.

Ostentatiously, Law turned on his heel and went down the corridor. Really, give him an inch and he would take a yard... Inside, however, he admitted that the psychiatrist deserved to be thanked more than anyone. Once Rosapelo recovered, Law would have to consider the visit in the world's most renowned restaurant, especially that it wasn't far, only on the same island... He felt cold at the thought that, had Clione not got that crazy idea that Law handled the boy, the whole business wouldn't have shaped so well... and he wouldn't have experienced this joy that had been accompanying him for the last three days.

He didn't plan to wonder 'what if', though, only opened the doors to Rosapelo's room. The boy turned his head towards him, and Law waved at him.

The nurse rose from her chair. "I suppose you don't need me here?" she asked.

Law and Rosapelo looked at her and then exchanged looks. Law suppressed a smile. It was hard to believe it had been just three days since he'd started to talk to the boy. It seemed that they had been knowing each others for ages.

"Come back in one hour," he said to the nurse and sat down by the bed. When the door closed, he reached for the bowl of milk soup on the table. Then, however, he looked at the boy and suggested, "Maybe you could eat by yourself, and I'll just hold the bowl for you? As much as you can."

Rosapelo nodded. They did as Law had proposed, although it took a longer while. The boy ate half of meal by himself, and when his hands grew weak, Law helped him with the rest.

"Would you like to eat anything else?" he asked, but this time Rosapelo shook his head.

Law noticed that his cheeks got some colours, probably due to the effort he'd made. He realised that the boy looked better than before. Healthier. He was glad for that.

"Good, maybe we can make that list of meals for you I mentioned before?" he asked, taking out a few paper sheets and a ball pen from his pockets. "We could make a plan for several days, what do you think? As I said, a twelve-year-old boy needs food..."

"Thirteen."

Law blinked, and his heart leapt in his chest. "What?"

"I'm thirteen," Rosapelo repeated in a whisper.

"Oh, that means you had your birthday along the way. When?"

"January 19," the boy replied, his voice still but a whisper.

Law nodded. His heart was racing because of excitement, and his mood raised the level of euphoria, but he didn't show it, for he didn't want to make Rosapelo nervous.

"Well, a thirteen-year-old boy needs even more food," he said just like that. "What would you like to have for breakfast? Something milky? Sandwiches?"

Step by step, they created more or less personal menu for Rosapelo. The boy quietly made his own proposals, just a few of them, while Law either recommended some dishes or critically commented others, guided by their nutritional value and burden on the digestive system. After two weeks of starvation, first the light products should be introduced, and in small amounts, but without forgetting their energy content. In less than half an hour, the sheets of paper Law brought with him were filled with the menu for the whole week, and what was left was to send them to the hospital kitchen that prepared meals for the patients... and to believe that the work wouldn't go to waste, namely, that Rosapelo would indeed eat four times per day, like he'd promised. Not only because it was the only way for him to get his strength back, but also because eating - deciding to eat yet another meal - meant the will to live.

"Sorry again for not coming in the morning," Law referred to the previous event. "I hope such emergencies won't happen again, but I _can't_ promise you that. You know, it would be good if you didn't miss a meal in such a situation. You're slowly recovering," saying that, he smiled, "so I think you'll be able to eat by yourself, and if you don't... Won't you let a nurse help you?" he asked in an encouraging voice. "It's not for long. Soon there will be no need for that."

Rosapelo stared at him for a moment and then nodded. Law's smile grew wider.

"I'm glad. By the way... What would you like to do when I'm not here? I don't mean to offend you, but I think lying in the bed and staring at the ceiling must be... boring? It would be good if you could spend time in a more pleasant way... Maybe I could bring you some books? Or a radio? I suppose you're too big for playing with toys... Though, it's not about the age. No man even grows out of his fondness for technical things, so maybe you'd like to get some plastic model to assemble?" he kept asking.

Deep inside, he realised that a boy in depression and mourning didn't necessarily want to spend time 'in a more pleasant time', but the thought of Rosapelo dwelling in the dark thoughts for hours was unbearable. He wanted to change it, tried to make the boy detach from the dejecting reality, forget the heart-breaking grief, occupy his attention with something else, anything... Even for one moment.

On the other hand, he was aware that there was a danger, too. Every question relating to the boy's life was risky, and thus he hesitated a longer while before speaking again. He told himself that the benefits surely prevailed over the harm.

"What did you normally do when recovering from the bone fractures, Pelo? Actually... Would you like to tell me about yourself? We hardly know each other," he added in a lower voice as it suddenly occurred to him.

Something flickered in Rosapelo's eyes, and then the boy turned his head away. Law's heart stopped, although he'd been prepared for such a reaction. Damn, it was hard... Still, Law understood he had to maintain the contact; it was the only thing that could prevent the boy from falling into an even deeper melancholia. Just like Clione had said: he was Rosapelo's anchor point, the only object in the real world the boy could focus on, so... As long as Rosapelo focused on Law, his experience of all those _worst_ emotions would be slightly attenuated.

"Maybe I shouldn't ply you with questions like that, only tell about myself first," he said, deciding on a new strategy. "Let's start from my birthday, since I already know yours. Mine is October 6. You know, everyone bothers me that day, reminding me how old I am. Ah, yeah, I'm thirty-nine. Three times your age, Pelo... Funny, isn't it? As for you... I think you're from Vokzel...?" He didn't know for sure, but that was where the boy had stayed during the storm. Since each of the Four Islands had its own hospital, there would be no need to sail to another place for treatment. "I come from the North Blue, just like the majority of my old crew... Except for Bepo, he's from the Grand Line. Do you remember Bepo? He's the head of the emergency department, a polar bear... a mink, I mean. He's absent now; he left for the medical congress, but should be back the next week. If you want to know how I appeared on Raftel, the answer is simple: I accompanied our Pirate King because someone sensible had to make sure that he found One Piece without destroying the world in the process. By the way, he and his crew aren't from the Grand Line... only Doctor Chopper from the internal medicine is. You may've heard of him, the only reindeer-doctor in the world... Yes, I know, we have a lot of freaks in our hospital... though I think that no-one can beat our dear psychiatrist."

Rosapelo wouldn't say a word - he was still looking out of the window, although it was another question if he saw anything there - so Law had to continue.

"You already know my favourite dishes... and I know yours, 'cause you told me. As for my hobbies, _once_ I liked to wander around different places and collect commemorative coins... Nowadays, I never wander anywhere; I have enough work. I can't remember the last time I left Raftel. As for the coins, hmm... One day my collection vanished, and I suspect miss navigator of the Straw Hats with her kleptomania," he said sneeringly. "I'd rather not believe she did it deliberately... But let her keep it, the Straw Hats once helped me a great deal, I owe them a debt of gratitude that I will never be able to pay. In any case, I stopped to collect the coins. Where could I even do it? There were no coins on Raftel... before the Pirate King came, followed by people wishing to settle here. Now we have all five of them, each with his mug..."

Finally, Rosapelo turned his head towards him. Law smiled lightly.

"What you already know about me is that I was terminally ill in childhood, but I miraculously survived," he went on. "And before that... Well, as long as I can remember, I planned to be a doctor, so my hobbies included things like reading books and, um, examining dead animals, both from outside and inside. I wasn't a typical kid," he muttered, seeing that the boy's eyes grew wide a bit. "I know that you like to play football, right?"

Rosapelo nodded, and Law's smile turned warmer.

"That's good. And healthy. Kids should move a lot. Although we must to remedy those fractures of yours... But later. Do you like anything else?"

The boy was silent for a moment, observing him closely. "When I was ill," he whispered, "I liked to read. I had a lot of books from the library." He fell silent and looked down, and Law guessed who it was bringing him those books. "I also did my homework, so that I wasn't far behind in school. My friends borrowed me their notes."

It appeared that Rosapelo was a diligent pupil.

"You're a good kid," Law said, but those words didn't seem to gladden the boy, for he stared at the window again. "Actually, we should inform your school that you're here," he realised. "Tell me what school you attend."

Rosapelo gave him the name of the city he lived. Just like Law suspected, he came from Vokzel.

"We'll notify them," he assured. "As for the books... What kind of them you like to read?"

"All," the boy answered quietly.

"I'll get some for you," Law announced and was displeased to realise that there was no library for the patients in the hospital. He decided to correct that error right away.

The silent fell again. Law could clearly tell that the conversation wasn't easy for Rosapelo. Actually, it was hard for him, too. On one hand, he was extremely happy that the boy had finally decided to speak; on the other hand, however... Now that they were in the verbal contact, it meant they would undoubtedly touch the topics that probably neither of them wished to touch. Law smiled bitterly at that paradox. In a way, it was much easier yesterday, when Rosapelo could answer only yes, no, don't know, and only with blinking.

Law wasn't sure if he was ready for the conversation about those less happy things. The truth was he would gladly leave it to Clione, for who was better to work with the human tragedies than a psychiatrist? But Rosapelo didn't want to speak with the head doctor of the Seven. He didn't want to speak with _anyone_ but Law. If Law refused... if he withdrew for any reason, especially his own cowardice, he would be the worst scum in the world. He mustn't let that boy down more than he already had, that was obvious. If he wanted to support him, he couldn't turn away from his suffering. He remembered he was here as a man, not a doctor.

Also, he knew that running away from the problems wouldn't do, for the past couldn't be undone. The boy had to work with his loss in safe circumstances and having a support of someone stronger; only that gave him any chance for being able to return to normal... unlike Law, who'd never managed to come to terms with his own tragedies, only had cut himself off and forbid himself to ever recollect them. He'd kept them inside for years and dozens of years, believing he was strong and could do anything, while in fact he was weaker and incapable of many things that were natural for others.

He didn't want that Rosapelo turned into such a defected man, if only it could be prevented. Maybe that was why now, instead of comfortably avoiding the topic (for the boy didn't touch it himself), he said bravely, "Pelo, if there's something you'd like to talk with me about, then say it. Whatever is on your mind, whatever you'd like to tell me or ask... I'll give you my time and hear you out. If you wish for my advice, I'll answer you the best I can. And what you're going to say stays between us. I'm not knowledgeable about many things... only about medicine and sailing... but I've been living in this world three time as long as you have... and my life wasn't always as pleasant as it is now... so I think that perhaps I'll be able to understand one or two things about you," he finished in a whisper.

Rosapelo gave him a distrustful look that pierced Law's heart. Well, there was no reason that the boy believed him without reservations.

"You see, Pelo, when I was ten, I lost my whole family," he said even more softly. "Both parents and my little sister."

The boy's eyes became wider. Law smiled, although he knew it was a rather sad smile.

"I could tell you about it, but I don't want to pour my past on you, if you don't want to know about it. I think that when someone has a problem, the worst thing to do is to give them a story about one's own difficulties, no matter how similar they might be. That's why, in the first place, I'm here to help you, not talk about myself. I want you to know that," he emphasised, looking at him seriously.

Rosapelo lowered his eyes. His fingers clutched at the cover, and then he asked quietly, "Why?"

Law blinked. "What?"

"Why do you care about me?" the boy asked, and his voice was even lower now.

Law was speechless for a longer while. Rosapelo's question baffled him completely, and he had no idea how to answer. Until now, he hadn't even thought of it. Thousands of answers flew through his mind, but none of them seemed proper, so he gave up and replied honestly, "I don't know. I just want to help you."

"But why?" Rosapelo asked again.

"Well, it would be the easiest to say: 'Because I'm a doctor.' I told you that we doctors find it difficult to see another person's suffering."

"But... You must have... many other patients... And yet you come here every day," the boy whispered.

Law leaned down to look him in the face; it required some acrobatics since Rosapelo had his eyes focused on his own stomach. "Pelo, am I hearing right...?" he asked in a slight disbelief. "An answer to that is very simple."

The boy raised his head one centimetre, but it was enough for their eyes to meet.

"It's you who wanted me to come," Law explained, still bent in half, and smiled wryly. "You didn't want anyone else. Has it changed? Hmm? Should I not come any more?" he asked.

Rosapelo shook his head, and his eyes were fixed on his stomach again.

"Well, I hope so," Law replied with faked severity, although in fact he felt like laughing. "Since I already rescheduled my work so that I can visit you four times per day. I plan to keep coming until you recover," he declared in a menacing voice, and then something made him add, "I'd come even more often, but, as you pointed out, I have a lot of patients," and he knew his words were honest.

The boy looked at him again and nodded. Law straightened up and glanced at the clock: it was almost three.

"Speaking of which, I should go, okay? I'll come around seven, we'll have a supper together. Of course, you can eat alone if you're hungry," he added quickly and got up, albeit somewhat reluctantly. "I'll try to get you a book. Maybe I'll find one that you haven't read yet," he said with a smile and then left.

He stopped by the nurses station. The morning shift was ending, which was very convenient for him. He informed that a nurse could go to Rosapelo again, and asked that the boy got the supper by 7 PM. Also, he handed the sheets with the menu, before saying, "Would any of you give me a favour?" Almost ten pairs of eyes stared at him with enthusiasm. "With preference to a morning shift," he added, causing more or less visible disappointment in half of present ones.

"What's the matter?" one nurse, Iris, asked.

"I'd like someone to go to the bookshop in Roger Bay and buy something suitable for a teenager, on the hospital's cost," he explained. "It's for Rosapelo, he likes reading. But it's important to bring it today."

"I can take care of it," the woman ensured him.

"Thanks. While you're at it, you may inform the owner that we'll soon make a bigger order. We have no library for the patients!" he added with faked indignation. "It's a scandal."

The staff giggled.

"Maybe that's because there was not a single bookshop on Raftel when this hospital was opened?" another nurse suggested. "Nothing you can't make up for."

"That's what I exactly plan to do," Law replied with a nod.

On the way to his office, he stopped by his deputy and ordered him to organise a small library for the patients' use, leaving him with the problem how to find space for it.

It was a quarter past seven when the new admissions were over. The moment the doors closed after the last lucky person qualified for treatment in the hospital on Raftel, Law grabbed a snack from the cupboard and ran to the Seven. The nurse left Rosapelo's room without a word, and Law apologised for being late and not able to stay much longer. Then they happily indulged in eating... as happily as it could be in the case of a sick boy without appetite and a man who considered eating as providing the organism with energy, in the first place.

"Law-san...?" Rosapelo spoke in a quiet voice when they were done with supper. His eyes were fixed on his knees under the cover. A brand new book was lying on the bed within his reach, but it seemed he had yet to take interest to it.

"Hmm?"

"Will you really come every day?" the boy asked, clenching his fingers on the linen.

"I will."

"But I... I'm bad..." Rosapelo whispered.

Law knitted his brow. "What?" he asked, feeling his heart start to beat faster.

The boy lowered his head even more. "Because of me... my mom..."

Law froze. His heart clenched with pain all to familiar, and his mind became all empty. He hadn't expected that. His little patient had just eaten supper, so Law had naively assumed the situation to be under control... And now he was in a panic, almost. What should he do? How should he relate to that? He had no idea... except that the worst solution was to say nothing.

"Pelo, look at me."

Rosapelo didn't react. Law thought for two seconds, then shifted from the chair onto the edge of the bed and put one hand on the boy's head, moving closer to him.

"Pelo, whatever happened, it wasn't your fault," he said firmly, although he was trembling inside. "Not in the slightest."

The boy looked out the window; it was dark outside. Law pulled back his arm and once more mustered his courage.

"Would you like to talk about it now?" he asked in a voice devoid of any hesitation.

Rosapelo, however, shook his head, and Law rebuked himself for the sense of relief that filled him, and for the fact that the boy's silence gave him a good excuse to leave... As a man, he didn't want to leave him in such mood; he wanted to comfort him somehow, show him his support... but the only thing that he could think of was to share his own past. Yet, he didn't want to impose it on Rosapelo. He'd said it himself he wouldn't do it.

"In that case... we'll talk about it when you're ready, okay?" he suggested.

This time the boy nodded.

"And now? Would you like something from me?" he asked.

Rosapelo declined. Still, Law felt miserable, for it was so terribly depressing, and knowing that he couldn't help only made it worse... But he had to find some positives. Maybe he should be happy that the boy could finally made his decisions and communicate them to others...? As far as he was concerned, Law intended to respect them.

"Then, see you tomo-" He froze, and a very unpleasant shiver ran down his spine. "Damn it..." He clenched his teeth to stop swearing, and then rubbed his face with both hands.

Rosapelo glanced at him, clearly sensing his sudden nervousness. Moron, a total moron, Law scolded himself inside, then took a Den Den Mushi from the pocket of his coat and called Clione, hoping that the psychiatrist was still at work.

"It's me. Are you still here? I need you, I'm in Rosapelo's room. No, everything is fine, I just... Listen, come here, would you? Thanks."

He hid the communicator, then grabbed the boy by his shoulders and looked at him beggingly. He wondered if it was how someone on the verge of madness felt, clutching at every possibility to retain his sanity.

"Pelo, I have a big favour to ask," he said with emphasis, staring in the confused blue eyes. "Our favourite psychiatrist will come here soon and.. Could you tell him that you wish for me to come here tomorrow?" he asked. "It's an incredible story, but... You see, I was forced to take a day off work once per month. I know, it's very stupid, but it means that on that particular day they don't want to see me in the hospital. And it falls tomorrow, on the sixteenth. Clione knows about it, and he will do everything in order to send me somewhere else. There's no doubt he won't let me in his ward. They have a real obsession over it... other doctors, I mean. Even though I'm a director, they treat me in such an absurd manner..." He shook his head. "But it's not important now. In any case, I think I won't be able to come near you tomorrow if we don't convince him to change his mind. So, Pelo... Please, tell him that, I beg you."

Rosapelo kept staring at him in confusion. He must have been completely shocked... and Law thought it was nothing strange. Actually, he was surprised by his outburst himself. He realised he was still squeezing the boy's shoulders, and withdrew his hands. A hysterical thought flew through his mind: he could have break his patient's bones again...

When Rosapelo wouldn't say anything, Law felt cold.

"Cause... you do want me to come tomorrow...?" he asked in a lower voice, wondering how he would bear with the negative.

Rosapelo, however, nodded, and Law felt the weight was lifted from his heart. Despite his upset, he smiled and then took two deep breaths to calm down. And then he rubbed his face with his hands.

"Thanks..." he muttered and didn't want to wonder about that feeling he'd just had: that one gesture could decide about life and death.

It was when Clione entered the room. He was without his white coat, so Law must have caught him the last possible moment... The psychiatrist wore his usual composed expression, although Law suspected that his call must have stirred at least a slight anxiety in him.

"What can I do for you?" he asked, shifting his gaze between the two of them.

Law looked at Rosapelo and then stared the psychiatrist in the eye. "Tomorrow is sixteenth," he said without emotion.

A surprise flashed in Clione's eyes. Ah, he too must have forgotten about it, Law thought. But he would undoubtedly remember by tomorrow...

"Your statutory day off. What about it?" the psychiatrist asked, folding his arms, ad if he knew what he would hear next.

Well, certainly not what he _was going_ to hear, Law decided, praying inwardly that Rosapelo spoke indeed.

"Pelo would like to say something in regard to it," he replied, looking at his little patient again. His voice was calm, although his insides were twisting.

The clicking of the heels told him that Clione had come closer to stand in the feet of the bed. Rosapelo lowered his head and clutched at the fabric of the linen. Law didn't urge him, although he felt like doing so. He could do nothing about it; the decision was the boy's. He could only hope that Rosapelo won over his reluctance and spoke, even though so far he'd refused to communicate with anyone else. His heart was racing, and he had to do his best not to clench his fists.

Finally, Rosapelo raised his head and looked at the psychiatrist before lowering his eyes again. "I want that Law-san... comes here tomorrow," he said quietly but clearly, and Law realised that never before had he been proud of another person as much as he was now of that thirteen-year-old boy.

"Thanks," he muttered again... and then put one hand on Rosapelo's head and tousled his hair, for it seemed the most natural thing to do.

He turned to the psychiatrist, who, for the first time in his life, seemed to be having no idea what to say, which was a very satisfying sight in and of itself.

"How about it?" he asked, trying not to smile too triumphantly.

Clione stared at him, then at Rosapelo, and then again at him. He appeared slighly thrown off his usual balance. Law had no doubt that he was as happy as he was himself because of the fact the boy had spoken. As for the request itself...

The psychiatrist sighed lightly. "Since it's you who ask me that, Pelo, I can't decline you," he said. "I only hope that Law didn't whine to you about it for the whole day...?" he added with the slightest shade or sarcasm, casting the object of his statement a look askance.

Rosapelo shook his head.

"No, I just remembered," Law decided that being honest couldn't hurt anyone, and he smiled wider. "Thank you, Pelo."

The boy glanced at him, and Law grinned in reply. He felt as if the two of them were a couple of conspirators that had succeeded with a vile scheme. But it wasn't the best here...

"We'll have a whole day," he informed with joy that couldn't be more real. "A whole day, Pelo."

Rosapelo stared at him again, and this time he kept the eye contact. Law wished he could pass even a small part of his joy to the boy... And maybe he really had, for the next moment Rosapelo nodded with more resolve than before, and his lips twitched slightly, as if announcing a smile that was to come much later.

Law thought he couldn't wait for he day when he succeeded in bringing a real smile to Rosapelo's face.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Only Bepo's absence made Law derogate slightly from his 'statutory day off'... well, aside from spending a whole day with Rosapelo, which was quite a derogation in and of itself; even if Bepo got to know, it would happen much later and his anger would be bearable. Law, indeed, decided to have twenty-four hours free, but not according to the calendar, only with a slight shift, that was starting from 7-8 AM. Earlier, Rosapelo would be sleeping anyway, contrary to Law, who by that time would be awake for many hours. That was why he decided to perform the morning surgeries normally, and then have twenty-four hours for himself and the boy.

Since so early in the morning, which was between three and seven, there were only doctors on duty at work and since Law used to move between the patients silently and stealthily like a ghost, there was a chance that the information about him working that day wouldn't reach his friends until it was too late. By that time, Law would hole up in the close unit on the seventh floor and show himself to no-one until the next morning. A good thing about psychiatry was that not only no-one could get out from there without permission, but also no unauthorised person could enter there, so Law was assured that no-one would find him. To be forced to use such measures still annoyed him - for it was really very absurd - but this time he didn't bother his head about it. He would have twenty-four hours free, and it was the most crucial argument he could present to the possible critics.

When he was done with the surgeries and appeared in Rosapelo's room half past eight, the boy was awake. Law was pleased to notice that breakfast had been prepared according to the menu they'd created yesterday.

"You're not eating?" he asked as a greeting, releasing the nurse, and then sat down on the chair he'd acquainted himself with already.

The boy raised his arms over the cover; his weakness was easy to notice.

"Right, you couldn't get it by yourself," Law realised. "But why didn't you ask the nurse to hand it to you?"

Something flashed in Rosapelo's eyes, and then the boy turned one hand up, so that Law could put one sandwich in it.

"You got pretty bold..." Law muttered. "You could say something, at least."

"Thank you."

Law smiled wryly. "I'm glad. I already thought you forgot how to speak again."

Rosapelo busied himself with the sandwich he was holding in both hands.

"Pelo, everyone already knows that you can speak," Law said. "I mean, everyone here. And that you're aware of other people's presence. We must have a deal. Today, I'm still going to assist you in eating if necessary, but starting tomorrow..." The boy's hands froze in the mid-air, when Rosapelo fixed his eyes on him. "Starting tomorrow you speak to others when I'm not here and you need something. Like be helped with eating."

The boy averted his eyes, he clearly didn't like the idea; Law, however, knew he had to be convinced. Fortunately, he considered himself as someone possessing the gift of persuasion.

"You did great when speaking to Clione yesterday," he continued, not that the boy had spoken a lot... but it was the thought that mattered. "Thanks to that I can spend a whole day with you today." He smiled wider. "In any case, I thought that if you managed to start or even finish eating before my visit, we would have more time at our disposal. We wouldn't have to be distracted with eating, don't you think?" he added in a tone of a subtle encouragement, even though it neared a conceit on his part. "The nurses will be more than happy to help you, you only have to ask them. It isn't too much, is it?"

"I don't want to talk," Rosapelo declared after a moment of thought.

"With the nurses?" Law shook his head. "You don't need to actually talk with them, just speak to them when you need something. People cannot read minds, that's why we have to say things aloud."

Now the boy gave him a totally disbelieving look, moving the sandwich away from his mouth. He said nothing, and that silence along with that look confused Law pretty much.

"What? It's true," Law went back to defence. "Have you ever met anyone capable of reading minds? I mean, surely there's a Devil Fruit for that, I don't know..."

"No, I just... heard it several times before."

Law blinked... and then stifled a snort. "Right, I bet it's a slogan in psychiatry. Damn, it seems I've been spending too much time with Clione and it caught on me," he muttered with a sneer and ran one hand through his hair. "Anytime soon, I'll start wearing a dress."

Rosapelo took interest in his sandwich again but wouldn't take his eyes off Law nonetheless, and Law suddenly realised that even more emotions could be seen on the boy's face. Rosapelo had started to show them yesterday, and even if they weren't very distinct, they could be clearly distinguished from that emptiness that had dominated his expression for two weeks. His skin was no longer as pale as before, and he'd turned into a more pleasant sight. Nevertheless, he was still so thin than his skin clung to his cheekbones and neck muscles. Law consoled himself with the thought that the boy would undoubtedly gain weight, now that he'd started to eat.

What also bode well was that Rosapelo ate the sandwich on his own and even drank a glass of milk; he was getting stronger. Law knew that the boy didn't suffer from any chronic illnesses, and thus his organism should recover fast, just like young people used to... What worried him, however, was that he had no idea if the boy _wanted_ to recover, himself. Sure, he'd started to eat and emerged from the state bordering catatonia, but could it mean that he'd made the final decision of living, one he would stick to? Law had the vague impression that what also awaited Rosapelo was the psychological recovery, and that process would be much more difficult...

Law didn't know if he wanted to be a part of that process. He knew he'd gladly leave it to Clione and his team... He didn't believe he had enough empathy or patience to participate in that, nor did he consider himself as a proper man to incite the will to live in anyone - he, who'd survived and kept living only because of the surrogate goals. It would be the best if Rosapelo regained his psychological balance just like that, without a third party... but, as Law concluded, suppressing a sigh, one could as well wish for a star from the sky, and without having the old Admiral Fujitora at his disposal...

Maybe it was for those unpleasant thoughts that he'd fallen silent for a longer while now and, in the end, decided that maybe the idea of eating or feeding wasn't so stupid if they could focus on it. His insides were twisting at the thought he might talk with Rosapelo about the boy's tragedies... but, on the other hand, he realised that if the boy started to talk about it indeed, then he would have to hear him out, for he'd promised, and he wasn't such a bastard to break his promises. In that case, he could only muster his courage and prepare for the worst.

To such an extent he was mustering and preparing that once Rosapelo spoke after the prolonged silence, he almost jumped in his chair.

"Law-san...?"

"Yes?"

"When will I be able to... use the toilet?" the boy asked shyly, his eyes fixed on the cover.

Law blinked. He hadn't expected it... while he should have, taking into consideration that Rosapelo hadn't got up from the bed for two weeks. Now that the boy started to eat, he certainly must have the need to use the toilet. Law should be happy it was 'only about that'. Contrary to the psychological problems, this one could be easily solved. There wasn't even any need to undress the boy, for he was wearing only a short gown tied on his back.

"Can you sit on a lavatory?"

Rosapelo nodded, still staring at his own hands. "Yes, but..."

"No need to worry about anything else. Only, it'll be quick... ROOM."

Before the boy managed to ask about what would be quick, he found himself over the toilet in the adjacent bathroom, with Law standing next to him. He hadn't even cried of surprise, although that would mean a further progress in showing emotions. Law gently placed him on the lavatory, holding his shoulder to help the boy keep his balance. He'd removed the catheter, hoping that his patient would be able to spontaneously urinate after such a long pause. Well, also it this matter he had to hope for Rosapelo's young age.

The boy succeeded in relieving himself, which gladdened Law a lot. "You did great," he praised him. "What else? Would you like to bathe, since we're already here?"

Rosapelo, however, shook his head, so Law guessed the boy had spent his supply of energy for today.

"Then, back to the bed?"

An affirmative nod... and the next moment Rosapelo was sitting under the cover again, as if he hadn't gone anywhere. His face was, however, flushed, and he was breathing quickly after the effort he'd made. Law thought they should start to mobilise him - two weeks without moving would harm anyone, and a prolonged stay in bed was generally contraindicated with his weak bones... although, paradoxically, thanks to that the risk of Rosapelo getting hurt was minimal. In any case, any extensive rehabilitation was out of question now, since he was still very weak. Maybe later Law could teleport him again... For now, he could deactivate his Devil Fruit.

"That _was_ quick," the boy said quietly.

"One of the numerous abilities of the Ope Ope no Mi," Law replied with a crooked smile. "It's not used only for treating people."

"I know," Rosapelo said even more quietly and lowered his head.

Law remembered it was really so, and cursed inwardly. Then, to turn the conversation from _that_ topic, he said hurriedly, "Now that you no longer have a catheter, you'll probably experience some difficulties with urinating. Your bladder was on a break, so it can be that over the next few days the urine would just get out of you. If you could get up yourself, it would be easier, but I suppose you'll spend a little more in bed, so you should use this." He reached down and grabbed the urine bottle. "Using it is not the most pleasant thing in the world, but it's still better than staying in the wet bed," he stated in a crisp voice. "And for the bigger things we have bedpans... But I'm not saying anything new," he realised. "I bet you've made an acquaintance with them when you had a leg fracture...?"

Rosapelo nodded... and the silence fell again in the room. Law frantically wondered what he should say, but, before he thought of something lucid, his patients asked in the very same quiet voice, "Law-san... Why did you save me then?"

Law felt his skin started to crawl... but he knew speaking of that couldn't be avoided, no matter how much he wished that. He hadn't managed to delay it, so he could as well give up. His memory returned to the situation from two weeks earlier, when he'd brought the boy from the ice in the very last moment, preventing his death.

"Because I won't have anyone die here," he answered in a calm tone.

Rosapelo pulled his knees up; he was still staring at the cover. "Why?" he asked again.

"I'm a doctor and a director in this hospital, and it came into being in order to save lives," Law replied, and the boy hunched at that answer. "But I told you the other day that it wasn't about statistics or my pride. I would've acted the same way if it had happened in a different place, too."

"Why?"

Law suppressed his irritation. "Because I... believe in life," he said, although it was a half-lie, at least, yet he continued, "I believe that it's better to stay alive and find out that something good can happen again, and it undoubtedly will. The longer one lives, the more good things can happen to them. Kids... kids shouldn't kill themselves," he added in a lower voice.

Rosapelo's fingers clutched at on the linen. "Something good?" he whispered. "I don't deserve 'something good'."

Law clenched his teeth, and his chest ached him as a warning. He already had enough of this conversation... but he couldn't exactly get up and flee. Not after he'd promised the boy to spend the whole day with him. And not after he'd promised to always listen him out.

"That's not true," he said calmly.

Rosapelo raised his head and cast him a look that Law interpreted as 'What do you know?'. Then, however, the boy lowered his gaze again and said nothing. Law was under that terrible impression he just had to keep talking, for silence was an enemy. Yet, how could he convince Rosapelo? How could he make the boy to believe in himself, if this very moment the teenager apparently regarded himself damned and deserving to die...? Law knew that feeling, he knew it all too well... That time, long ago, no words could have convinced him he'd been wrong. That time, long ago, he would have laughed at anyone telling him he hadn't been such a bad person he'd considered himself to be.

Only, it hit him, Rosapelo wasn't a bad person, and certainly not as bad as he considered himself to be. That was how the two of them differed. Law had had all the reason to believe he'd been the one to blame, but Rosapelo wasn't at fault. For anything. And maybe it was this belief that gave him strength to continue with this conversation, for it was quite hard to face a kid who baselessly plunged into remorse and thought of himself that bad.

"Pelo, you told me yesterday that it's your fault your mom... your mom died. Why do you think so?" he asked in a composed voice.

The boy lowered his head even more. He remained silent, so Law had to go on.

"As far as I know, your mom died during the storm. I can't quite grasp how it should be your fault," he said firmly. "Even if you had the power to generate storms, I'm perfectly sure you wouldn't bring harm upon your mom. Am I wrong?"

Rosapelo hunched more and then slightly shook his head. "But..."

"But what?" Law asked patiently.

"She was coming here with me," the boy whispered. "Because I was ill, she wanted to bring me here. If I'd been healthy, it wouldn't have happened."

Law suppressed a sigh. "Pelo, as a doctor... As the best doctor in the world, let me tell you that the man can't be blamed for falling ill," he said with conviction, although he knew that some illnesses could be avoided with a healthy lifestyle; it didn't matter in this case.

"If I'd been more careful... I wouldn't have broken my arm again," Rosapelo whispered. "Then I wouldn't have needed to go to the hospital."

Law had no idea why the boy and his mother had boarded the ship to Raftel in that storm, in the first place. It had carried critically ill patients and the staff tending to them... and those whose health hadn't been at risk, but they'd forced the crew to take them. But Rosapelo's mother hadn't seem to be someone capable of it... rather, she'd boarded the ship by accident. That, however, was something that the boy didn't need to hear.

"Pelo, it's not your fault that you broke your arm," Law said with emphasis. "You didn't do it on purpose, right? Fractures usually happen by accident. As for your mom..." He took a deep breath. "Of course she wanted to take you to the hospital. It's natural for parents to care about their children. I can't imagine any mother just look at her child's suffering and not take them to a doctor. Your mom did as her heart told her, and it probably didn't even occur to her to do otherwise."

Rosapelo pressed his face to his knees and put his arms around his head.

"I didn't want her to die," he whispered in the linen.

"I know that. We all know that. Only..." Law clenched his fingers on the fabric of his trousers. "It already happened. We can't turn back the time, no matter how we'd like to."

The boy remained silent, and Law let him. He was mad at himself... he didn't know how to have this conversation. Whatever he said, it wouldn't really matter... and he felt terrible about it. Helpless. He wasn't accustomed to this feeling... In the Corazon Memorial Hospital, there was no place for helplessness, as there was no right for defeat. Now he realised that for the last thirteen years he'd been living in some kind of a bubble. Surrounded only by people's joy and defeating death over and over again, he'd forgotten that unhappiness existed in the world, too. Of course, it had been a conscious choice, to an extent: long ago, on a small island in the North Blue, he'd decided he would never again let anyone take away his freedom and control over his life. He'd decided that, conversely, he would be the one setting the terms and being in the control. Here, on Raftel, he'd got the chance to finally shape the reality according his own desire, to be a lord and a master, to never give in to hopelessness and suffering again... no, to never _come in touch_ with them... or, if forced to, only at a safe distance.

Now that distance had been suddenly crossed when a boy with his tragedy had invaded his life, and Law couldn't do anything to cut himself off it - he just had to accept it, worked it over and win.

He blinked.

Yes, win. Even if he felt helpless now, it wasn't like he planned to give up. Besides... he'd promised Rosapelo he wouldn't turn his back on him. He'd promised it to himself, too. And Rosapelo, for some reason, had chosen him, Trafalgar Law, to stand by him in that moment of loss and despair. So Law had to be here, stay here as long as it took, until Rosapelo no longer needed him, until he got back on his feet, recovered, regained his inner strength and became ready to live on. Law couldn't surrender to hopelessness. Even if all he could was to accompany the boy through that pain - and repeat the words whose truth he didn't entirely trust - he had to believe that it mattered. Even though his nature wanted to fight, he had to accept that fight would happen on Rosapelo's terms.

The boy leaned back on the pillow again and turned his face to the window. "I thought it was just a dream," he whispered. "That mom was still alive. I wanted to believe it. I told myself I'd been sick and imagined all that... but deep inside I knew... I felt it was true. No dream could be so painful," he uttered. "Besides... Mom was always by my side when I was sick. And now she wasn't there, she didn't come even once... So I knew it wasn't a dream."

Law pressed his lips with a sudden, absurd feeling he should just vanish. Rosapelo might as well say, 'It's not you who should be here'. He didn't feel offended; no, he understood perfectly it would be fair. Of course Rosapelo didn't need _him_, a stranger; he wanted his own mother.

And that was why the only thing Law could say was, "I'm sorry for her. I wished she lived. I'm sorry we couldn't save her. If only..."

'If only the help had arrived one minute later. If only they had rescued her and brought to Raftel... I could have saved her.' He realised saying that was pointless. Such words wouldn't benefit anyone, they would only hurt Rosapelo even more.

"They told me that... when we were found, she was hugging me," the boy said quietly, and Law felt his racing heart leap in his chest.

"Then, she saved your life," he replied right away, revising his knowledge in his medical mind. They told him that the boy's mother had drown, but it could be wrong. It could be that she'd died hit by something heavy when she'd tried to protect her child. The blow had been strong enough to kill her and break the boy's fragile frame but not kill him, for her body had softened the shock. "When you came here, almost every bone in your body was in little pieces. All except your skull. Your head didn't suffer any injury, so probably your mom protected you. Until the very end, she tried to keep you from harm."

Rosapelo turned to him. There was that blank expression on his face again, that emptiness that had accompanied him for the last two weeks: that final defence against suffering that one couldn't defend against in any other way. Law wanted to smash that mask, for he knew that emptiness equalled death. To suffer meant to live.

"She loved you," he said calmly, solemnly, firmly, never taking his eyes off the boy.

Rosapelo's blue eyes filled with tears, and the boy pressed his eyelids shut and bit his lips, then pressed his both hands to his face. A silent sob shook his body. Law felt something break inside him, too... filling his chest with hot emotion that he considered as relief, at first. He put one hand on the boy's shoulder to offer him his support, and said no more.

He looked at the window and saw it was snowing. A shiver ran down his spine. He quickly averted his eyes from that sight, but his heart beat painfully, and suddenly he saw another island buried with snow, where someone who should have been a stranger had told him 'I love you' and given his life in the name of that life, for nothing.

"Your mom loved you," he uttered, forcing himself to return to reality. There was no place for his own tragedy here, especially when his and Rosapelo's cases were so different. He had to speak, had to convince the boy, had to pass those important things to him, even if he couldn't remedy his loss. His head was spinning, and his heart was beating so violently it hurt, but the words would just flow, coming from his very core that fully believed in that. "Every mother loves her child. She couldn't have done otherwise. She wished the best for you, even at the cost of her harm. I'm sure she didn't want to leave you. I know how important you were to her. I saw it myself, how she cared about you when you were here. I'm sure she wanted to stay with you... but when she had to make the choice between you and her, then she didn't even think about it. That's how parents are: they always put their children's good over their own," he spoke until his throat clenched and he stopped, unable to say any more.

Why did it all sound so familiar? Why did it sound like _Cora-san_, no matter how many times he repeated to himself it had been another case...? After all, Cora-san and him, they were two strangers... they'd had no obligations to each other... no bonds... Right?

He was under the impression he was trying to lie to himself, but it wasn't significant now, for no matter what reasons had driven Cora-san, one thing he and Rosapelo had in common: they'd lost someone they'd loved more than anything... For ever, they'd lost the most important - or maybe even the _only_ important - person. And Law knew that he felt for the boy... but even stronger was that pain that was now clenching his heart and almost made it impossible to breathe. Yes, to suffer meant to live, he'd just told it himself, but...

His shoulders hunched when he lowered his head and cringed in the chair from that unbearable pain that seemed to be tearing him to pieces. _That_ was why he'd forbid himself to ever recall Corazon and had decided to never bring forth the events from the cursed Minion. _That_ was why he'd been avoiding situations that might remind him of that tragedy from a quarter of century ago and had never told anyone about it how his new life had started. He'd known that pain had been so strong it could destroy him... and felt mad at Rosapelo to have made him experience it... but that anger was completely out of place and quickly faded in suffering that obscured everything.

Some rational part of him knew he should collect himself, continue the conversation... but how could he do it when feeling as if his heart, lungs and throat had been pierced and even the Ope Ope no Mi couldn't make them function normally...? He could only sit down like that, leaning forwards and pressing one hand to his chest and the other to his face, biting his lips and keeping his eyelids shut. Wondering if the world would never be normal again. This very moment it seemed completely impossible.

He was paralysed but fully conscious, which was a curse, for his consciousness was prison of pain and couldn't break free. He'd always known his mind was his most precious treasure... and his greatest enemy. He couldn't turn off his thoughts... and now, for the first time in his life, it occurred to him that maybe he _should_ have shared his past with others, instead of holding the events from Minion inside and never speak of them. If he had, then maybe over those twenty-six years he would have managed to somehow accept what had happened, to come to terms with it, to work through his despair and pain and finally integrate them with his psyche... instead of having cuf himself off from them and risk that when they struck again, they would do it with equally great power as in the beginning. But he hadn't had courage, not that time, nor later. The sole time when he'd reached to his memories and told that story to Sengoku-san thirteen years ago, it had shaken him so much that he'd closed them in the innermost part of his mind again. He'd concluded that if he hadn't managed to get used to his loss for the thirteen years, then it would never happen, and he'd given up on trying. And so another thirteen years passed... And nothing had changed, indeed...

Thirteen years from now... Would everything be the same, too? Did he really want it...? He didn't... but this very moment he couldn't quite imagine his future, for pain was still crushing his body, and suffering was flooding his mind. It overtook his all conscience. It convinced that everything was pointless... and that there was one definite way to solve all his problems... He knew it well, that voice whispering to him now that it was so easy to stop his heart from beating using the Ope Ope no Mi... He'd fought many fights with it, winning every one of them... but that voice would never disappear for good, it would always come back at some point, to persuade and tempt, and Law wasn't at all certain he wouldn't succumb to it one day...

One day? Why not today...?

"Good mor- My, what's happened here?" Clione's voice broke through the rush of blood in the ears as the psychiatrist approached Rosapelo's bed, clicking his heels.

Law's head snapped up, as he straightened up in the chair with a gasp. Lost in the lowest levels of his mind, he hadn't even heard Clione entering... and bringing him back to the world, to the reality, to life. To Rosapelo, who was still sitting with his knees up and face buried in his hands. He was no longer sobbing, but his whole figure expressed despair that might break him completely, and it was an unbearable sight.

Law pressed his lips... and then, in a sudden determination, he moved onto the bed edge and put his both hands on the boy's shoulders. They were trembling just a little.

"Pelo, listen to me," he said, paying no attention to Clione. "I know how you feel and what you think now. I _really_ know... I really _know_ those thoughts and feelings. As if the world ended, as if there were no joy happiness anymore, as if it were the best to just die. I know how it is when you feel the worst... the most wretched man in the world... when you suffer so much that death seems the only good solution. I promised to never bother you with my own past... but, after all, I want you to hear about it, for..." He hesitated. "For maybe it will make you feel better, even just a little," he finished quite awkwardly.

His heart was still aching, but it was working, beating fast and persistently, never giving up. He took a deep breath, without averting his eyes from Rosapelo, although what he could see was mostly the boy's hair. To tell the truth, what he had before his eyes was a scenery coated with silvery white and about to turn in hell. Whiteness couldn't be trusted, it always brought evil... except, perhaps, the white of a doctor's coat.

"As I told you yesterday, I come from the North Blue," he started to talk, quickly so that he wouldn't change his mind, and in a crisp voice, when he could still muster it. "I was born in Flevance, a small country that was called the White City. You don't need to know its location; it's no longer on any maps, as it was destroyed long before your birth. It was a beautiful place, and very rich, both because of a mineral that resembled silver that had been mined there... White Lead, also called Amber Lead." He gulped and forced himself to continue. Amber Lead couldn't hurt him. "It was in soil, in water, in plants, everywhere. Can you imagine that? Everything shone in white: houses, trees, fields... It was a magic scenery, one you could never forget... That's where I was born and spent my childhood. My parents were doctors and kept the country's biggest hospital. They had vast knowledge and were respected by everyone, but above all they were good people who wanted to help every suffering person. I also had a little sister, Lami..."

He realised his fingers were digging in Rosapelo's shoulder, although the boy made no sound, and released his grip, hard as it was, for it seemed to him that his body was so tense he could barely control it. Yet, he couldn't wonder about his own sensations, he just had to keep talking, as long as he was able.

"I had wonderful childhood and a great family, caring patents and lovely sister. I had friends, and I could study medicine, my real passion. That time, I believed that a doctor could overcome every misery and help anyone... My mother was such a warm and compassionate person, she always smiled, and the patients loved her, just like Lami and I... My father was an undefeated hero in my eyes, he was a doctor fully involved in his work and science, but also an optimistic and caring man. I admired him and wanted to be like him, work with him in the hospital and cure the ill ones, help those who needed my help. I was sure it would one day come true, but..."

He stopped. A sea of flame spread before his eyes, engulfing his dreams and his childhood... taking away everything along with his humanity. Turning him in a monster.

"When I was ten years old, everything ended," he went on, in a quiet voice. "I told you about it, didn't I? About my illness and what happened to my countrymen. People of Flevance started to fall ill one after another and then die. It was the fault of Amber Lead, that had been accumulating in the human bodies for a very long time, until it finally began to give symptoms. Everyone in Flevance was poisoned by it, everyone carried Amber Lead in their body and would fall ill and die sooner or later. That time, however, no-one really knew the cause of the symptoms, and most of the people decided it was some kind of lethal epidemic disease... a plague that couldn't be cured. That's why, instead of sending help, neighbouring countries sent their armies to... kill all the ill... kill all citizens of Flevance," he whispered.

He was able to talk about it because he'd _managed_ to come to terms with that tragedy. No matter how cruel and unjust, he'd managed to work with it and integrate... accept it as a part of his history and his life. He'd managed to, deep inside, say goodbye to his parents and sister, to his friends from the home city. He couldn't help their death. Whatever he might have done that time, he couldn't have prevented it; he could only run away and try to survive on himself.

What also helped him in telling this story was that, after the revolution, the truth about the White City had been revealed to the public. People had learned that White Lead was toxic when raw. That the World Government had withheld the information and had allowed the ore to be mined. That the residents of Flevance could have been helped, but instead they'd been sentenced to death. It was Sengoku-san, who had started the process that had led to rehabilitation of the White City. And even though it couldn't help or compensate to anyone, at least history had been corrected and lies had been replaced by the truth. In the ruins of Flevance, a monument to the victims of Amber Lead and massacre had been erected, commemorating a country that had been destroyed by others... and Law, despite having never told anyone about his past and never returned to his homeland, was grateful for that.

"I managed to escape," he resumed talking, trying not to think of the whole string of nightmares he'd gone through before coming to Doflamingo, "but I knew I was terminally ill. I knew I had no longer than three years of life. When I was ten, I _knew_ I would die within three years. There was no cure for me. My time had been counted, and my life had been circled with a thick line with only death beyond it. No man should know the time of their death, something like that deprives of hope and sense... In my case, knowing that turned me into a monster... All I wished for, in that short time I still had, was to hurt others, destroy and kill, I wanted to take revenge, repay for my misfortune, make others suffer like I had, everyone I could reach. That's why I joined a pirate crew... I joined a man who was a devil himself and whom I still consider as the most evil creature in the world. I joined him, for I wanted to be and I was almost like he, who desired only to destroy everything and make people suffer. In his evil, he seemed to me someone that I should follow, as if he could show me the way and give me a licence for mindless destruction."

Hot emotion of hatred filled his heart, and his breath quickened. For all those years that had passed, he still couldn't stop hating Doflamingo, and he guessed he would never stop. He also knew that, if not for Doflamingo, all that hatred would have focused on himself. He pressed his lips and resumed his story.

"I turned really bad. I don't know if a more villainous kid has ever existed. I was a part of the criminal group that cared little about human life, so you can imagine what I did... what I used to do. By twelve, I was evil to the core, and I knew that. Yes, I was a monster... I hope you will never meet one, Pelo. Monsters leaves only damage and wrong behind, for they are incapable of any warm feelings and can only hate. I hated the world, people, and, above all, myself, for I believed that I deserved only hatred. But..."

He paused. His throat clenched with pain, and the vocal cords were like paralysed, unable to produce a sound. He lowered his gaze and put his hands from Rosapelo's shoulders, hunching. Memory of what had happened later would always make him defenceless. Hatred gave strength to fight, at leat for a moment, but the good received... it disarmed and made every attempt at guarding oneself impossible. One could protest against the harm, but how could you resist the kindness...? One could only accept it. And even though this story was a story of victory, from a certain point of view, for him it had been the cause of his greatest despair... and even now, after all those years, a quarter of century later, he realised he wished to reverse it, undone it, prevent it from happening... if he only could. But he couldn't.

"I was a monster and would die as a monster," he resumed after a moment, when he could talk again, although he heard that his voice was trembling... He was trembling all over inside, and his heart was clenching with terrible pain, but there was some drop of sweetness in that pain, too. As if, through the tears, he could see someone smiling. "But then an angel appeared to save me," he whispered, his eyes fixed at his hands. "It was a very strange angel. He was wearing a black feathers cloak, smoked cigarettes one after another, stumbled over his own legs all the time, and had a freaky smile painted on his face. But the strangest thing about him was that he was a blood brother of the devil whose crew I had joined. The devil dressed up in bright plumes and pretended to be a nice guy. The angel had black wings and seemed to be a grim, scary freak... but in fact, he was the best man in the world."

His voice failed him again, and he spent a longer while swallowing down in order to have the grip on his throat released. He realised he wished to run away... but he forced himself to stay. He'd decided to tell the story to help Rosapelo, he reminded himself. He'd already started; he couldn't just stop in the middle, no matter how hard... how painful it was. Yes, he was doing it for Rosapelo, who... who, in the meantime, had raised his head and was staring at him with his reddened eyes, ready to lower his gaze any moment and plunge into despair again. Law wanted to smile at him... but if he moved a single muscle in his face, then... then...

He pressed his lips, then inhaled deeply and slowly breathed out. His heart was pulsating with a familiar pain, but it was under control... everything was under control. He could do it, could talk again.

"The angel took me from the devil and set off for a journey with me," he said quietly, almost in a whisper. "It wasn't a trip, though, only a hopeless pilgrimage through the hospitals in the North Blue in order to find a cure for the Amber Lead Syndrome. He wasn't bothered by the evil in me, he didn't care in the slightest about me being a monster who had forgotten how to be a human. He saw me only as a kid and took care of me like a kid, even though I didn't want it. I hated all people and him too, I even tried to kill him... He brushed it off as it didn't matter. He was determined to save me, and nothing could persuade him otherwise, even though only a miracle could save me. But you know what, Pelo? He created that miracle," he said with inspiration. "If nor for him, you and I would've never met, for I would've died at the age of thirteen far from here, in the North Blue..."

He looked at his hands again. His fingers were trembling, so he clenched his fists and put them on his lap. He glanced at Rosapelo, who was observing him and blinking occasionally, then fixed his eyes on the wall over the boy's head. Before his eyes, there was again the scenery of Minion buried in snow, an island that had become a place of end and beginning for him.

"I told you it was thanks to the Ope Ope no Mi that I'd managed to recover, to get rid of the death sentence and to prolong my life that should have end soon. It was my angel that got the Ope Ope no Mi for me with his bare hands. He snatched it from his devil-brother's very nose, and only to cure me, just like he'd decided. He didn't care about anything, the least about his own good, he only realised his plan to help me."

He lowered his head again and had to gulp down some more in order to be able to continue talking. He was astonished that his heart was still in one piece and beating strongly, for he was certain one could die of such pain.

"But you know what, Pelo? At that point, I no longer believed I could be saved," he confessed. "I was sure I would die... but I didn't care about it anymore. Even if my body couldn't be cured, then... at least my soul had been healed. See, during that journey on the seas of the North Blue, during those six months, as we futilely visited islands and hospitals, I found something good in place of hatred and destroying. I found someone who became important to me. Someone I got attached to... and loved... I, who had thought I would never want anyone again," he whispered. "And yet he became my all world, obscuring everything else. I only wished I could stay by his side until I die. He promised me... promised that once it was all over, we would run away together and no-one would find us. I don't know if I believed that... after all, I was about to die... but I do know I was happy when he said it."

He pressed one hand to his face and closed his eyes. Under his eyelids, he could still see the merciless snow falling, covering everything with hateful white like a shroud. Minion. The cursed island of death and life.

"But it couldn't have such an end," he went on, although now he had to force every word out. He kept his eyes closed. "For the angel really outwitted the devil, took away the Ope Ope no Mi and restored my life. Until the very end, he protected me with his wings, guarded me from the evil... from his brother. Until the very end, he thought only of me and cared about me, before dying at the monster's hand... He died with a smile, for he knew he saved me for ever. The man whom I'd admired brought me misery and despair... and the man whom I'd hated gave his life for me."

He pressed one hand to his chest, as if it could ease the pain bursting it from the inside. His head was spinning, the images were moving before his eyes like a film, only unsorted, chaotic, without chronology, occasionally flashing with a crazy, loving smile. He felt he would go mad any moment, and asked himself how he'd managed to retain his sanity for all those years... for he had, even if some wounds in his soul had never healed, and others had left scars that had twisted his psyche for ever.

"I almost went crazy," he said and was amazed he still could. "It seemed to me that the whole world had gone crazy and everything was not like it should be. The only thing that mattered was that I'd lost someone who'd become my family... someone I'd loved and hadn't wanted to lose, not him, even if everything else ceased to be. But suddenly he was no longer there, and I was all alone... with my new life... that didn't mean a thing to me... had no value," he confessed. "Pelo, that time on... That time, on that cursed island where all that happened, I wanted to die, for I knew it was my fault... It was I who'd brought death upon him. But, at the same time, I knew I had to live in order to not waste that gift I'd received from him." How dry, how dead those words sounded in his mouth... just like that moment when his childhood had definitely ended. "I knew I had to survive and live for him, too. Since he'd given everything to save me, it would mean to be disrespectful to him to reject the gift of life, forsake what he'd got for me. It was the one thing I couldn't do, no matter how I wished to die... And I did wish to die terribly," he added in a stifled whisper.

He lifted his eyelids and looked at Rosapelo, who looked back. His blue eyes were wide open and fixed on him.

"So, Pelo, I know exactly, _exactly_ like you feel. I know how it is to lose the only one... the last beloved person in the world. I know how it is to blame oneself for their death. I know how it is to wish only for death," he said with emphasis. "And yet I survived... until this very day."

Rosapelo squinted, and his lips twitched.

"How...?" he asked so quietly that he could be barely heard.

And Law felt that under that gaze and that desperate question, and that begging that was also sympathetic, the last barriers that were still inside him fell down. He pressed his lips together, blinked a few times... and then he felt something wet on his cheeks... He quickly wiped his face and sniffed, but it didn't help; he couldn't stop the tears. He hadn't cried since Minion... he'd promised himself to never cry again... and now he couldn't stop...! He shut his eyes tight, hoping it to help him check himself, and then covered his face with one hand.

With some part of his mind - after all, even in the greatest shock he never lose the ability of logical thinking, not for long anyway - he realised he couldn't act like that... It wasn't even about an adult man snivelling like a kid before the eyes of a kid who needed strength and assurance, not weakness. He should convince Rosapelo that it was worth living, but he wouldn't do it showing him his own despair... showing him how he still suffered, even after a quarter of a century had passed...! No, it was the worst thing to do. He had to calm down at once... get himself under control. Damn it, he was Trafalgar Law, the director of the Co-

A new wave of pain pierced his chest... and suddenly he had a frightening impression he wouldn't be able to regain his balance, no matter how hard he tried. He'd always had a control, he had to have it...! The vision of being at others' mercy was a nightmare... and now, this very moment, it seemed to turn real...!

He felt a touch on his hair, and his head snapped up. Rosapelo's hand stopped in the mid-air and then was taken back, and the boy looked away. Law blinked, surprised. The thought he had to be consoled by a thirteen-year-old boy was so absurd he finally managed to collect himself... and then he corrected: Rosapelo had probably been scared by his outburst and tried to check out if he was all right. He took a few deep breaths. Tears finally stopped to flow.

"Sorry," he rushed to assure. "I'm fine. I'm sorry for scaring you, Pelo."

The boy glanced at him and knitted his brows, and something flashed in his eyes, something akin to... an offence? Law blinked... and then breathed deeply again. He had to resume the conversation, he couldn't stop it halfway through. Rosapelo asked how he'd managed to survive... Well, that was quite easy.

"I turned my life into a tribute to the man that had saved me," he replied. "Everything I've done since then was to express my gratitude... and make the best use of what he gave me. And make him live on... even for the people who never met him."

Rosapelo looked at him, frowning all the time, but Law only shook his head and closed his eyes. His throat clenched again. He didn't want to cry, yet he was aware that, if he answered that unspoken question, it would undoubtedly happen. That was why ha chose silence, despite knowing it was bad.

"Do you remember the name of this hospital?" Clione's voice was to be heard.

Law had completely forgotten about the psychiatrist. He twitched, opened his eyes and turned around to look at him. Clione was sitting in the nurse's chair. He seemed to be perfectly calm, but there was unusual tension about him, visible in his straightened back and fingers clutching at the fabric of his white coat. There was no emotion on his face, as it wasn't in the words he'd just spoken, and his gaze was fully focused and penetrating... but when one looked closer, they could see that, even though the make-up was intact, the slate-blue eyes were glistening unnaturally, as if he was close to tears himself. Clione wasn't someone to become easily moved - rather, Law saw him on the opposite pole of the spectrum - but he was capable of it just like any normal person, he just could hide it well.

"The Corazon... Memorial Hospital...?" Rosapelo said quietly, and Law turned to him again. "Your angel... was called Corazon?"

One nod was everything Law could afford; it took all his strength to prevent the new tears. To tell the truth, he was under the impression that a steamroller had run over him... and yet, he realised, he was still alive. The world hadn't ended, the reality hadn't collapsed... and the pain hadn't crushed him completely. He blinked in astonishment, staring at the blue eyes in front of him. He felt as if the clouds opened and a single ray of sunlight came out, reminding that hope died last. Only after a moment he understood it was... relief that didn't result from the fact he'd finished his story. Despite all suffering this conversation had brought him, now he really _felt relieved_.

And it seemed that Rosapelo, if only for a moment, had managed to forget about his own sorrow, his own tragedy... No, 'forget" wasn't a right word; he'd just managed to focus on something else. And if it really was so, then that honest confession wasn't pointless... and Law couldn't regret it... right?

He knew he didn't regret.

"You're the first man I've ever told about," he muttered without thinking. "Though that one over there," he waved his hand at Clione, suddenly remembering the talk the two of them had several months ago, "guessed everything long ago," he added ironically.

"Not everything," the head of the Seven corrected, which Law dismissed with another wave. "But, I'm not going to disturb you," Clione said the next moment and rose from the chair.

Instead of leaving, however, he stood by the bed for a longer while until Law felt annoyed and glared at him. "What...?" he grunted. "If you want to say something, then just say it."

The psychiatrist, however, only shook his head and kept staring at him, and now his gaze was only warm and compassionate. Then Clione squeezed his shoulder and ran away. Distractedly, Law wondered if it meant that he would be spared psychoanalysis from now on... and came to the ironic conclusion he would probably miss it.

He stared at the window. Snowstorm had ended already, although the white clouds over the grey sea didn't bode well in regard to the weather, but he didn't care. Snow couldn't hurt him, not now, nor before... and spring was close. And when he was looking at the coastal scenery of Raftel, he realised that with every passing second, with every breath and beat of heart, he was regaining his strength, even though he'd felt so weak not so long ago... even though he'd felt like a thirteen-year-old boy wronged by his fate, who couldn't console anyone, to say nothing of helping. Yet, it had passed, leaving him with the sense of victory. It was a strange victory, paid with tears and terrible suffering, but it was incontrovertible, for he'd survived. Just like that time, a quarter of century ago, he'd stayed alive - hadn't yielded either to the lethal disease or deep despair - now, too, he wouldn't let pain break him, obliterate him. He didn't need anything else to return to his familiar reality and continue his life as he had so far.

He turned his head and looked at Rosapelo again. The boy was sitting in the very same position as before, with his knees pulled up, ready to cover his face with his hands, ready to withdraw into himself any minute. His eyelids were swollen, and his conjunctives were red from crying, but he was no longer crying, only staring at Law intently. On the spur of the moment, Law put one hand on his head.

"I don't know if you wanted to listen to that... but thanks for listening anyway," he said in a low voice. "It wasn't a nice story, and I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable," he added, but Rosapelo shook his head, which made Law suddenly smile. "You're a good kid," he muttered and tousled his hair before pulling back his hand and becoming serious again. "I didn't tell it to make you compare... to think, like, 'He had it worse than I, so I shouldn't be so down'. Nothing of this kind, don't you ever think that way. Your own misfortune can't be compared with someone else's... and mustn't be depreciated, either," he said in a firm tone. "I did it to make you know that there's someone who really understands you... who sympathises with you. I don't know if it helps you... after all, it can't change the past, and I suspect that you only wish you could change the past... give life back to your mom... But I think that knowing it, knowing that someone experienced something similar, could ease your sorrow just a bit. Knowing that you're not completely alone, like a different kind of a human, separated from the rest with the wall of misunderstanding. _I_ understand you. And I'll stay with you as long as you need me," he declared, "if you want me to."

The boy blinked several times and then nodded. Law smiled again. Something tickled him in the chest, filling it with warmth. He realised it was the very first positive emotion in a longer while. Despite that, when he continued, there was some hesitance to his words.

"There's one more reason why I told you about it, Pelo... Maybe my story... and my person can show you that even after a tragedy... after a loss that's hard to accept... That even then you can live on... and enjoy your life, experience happiness... It may sounds completely impossible at this point... but look at me. I'm the best example that you may succeed," he said with emphasis. "I have my life here, I have this hospital, I have something I can be proud of and satisfied with. I never recall my past; instead, I focus on what is now and what is yet to come. That time, twenty-six years ago, I could and wanted to die... but instead I decided to live on, and..."

He stopped. He should say, 'And I don't regret it', but... He wasn't sure if it wouldn't be a base lie. It seemed to him he'd let quite many lies out of his mouth today, and if not lies, then at least not entirely honest and truthful confessions, and he didn't want to add yet another one.

"I've helped many, many people," he said instead. "I've managed to do something good for others. And I know I'm not finished yet. I know that I'll be curing and helping people as long as I live... I can't do much more... nor am I the best man in the world, Pelo, but if I can bring some good to this world... then I say myself it's enough. And if one day I manage to meet the man who saved me, again, then I wouldn't have to be ashamed for having wasted his gift. That's why..."

He lowered his head so that his eyes and Rosapelo's eyes were on the same level, and when he resumed talking, his voice was just a whisper.

"That's why you too, Pelo, shouldn't waste the gift you got from your mom. Even if now your life has no value to you and seems only a suffering... just think that your mom wanted to save you, wanted you to live at all cost. That was her greatest wish, and she did everything to realise it, there's no doubt about it."

He straightened his back and looked up - where else should he seek for Heavens if not up there...?

"I have no idea if we meet with our beloved ones after death... but if we do, I think we can't risk, only do our best to be able to face them with out heads up... without fear of being scolded. Only living on we can repay them... even if we somehow, involuntarily contributed to their death," he finished softly and then looked at the boy again.

Once more, Rosapelo's eyes filled with tears, and his lips curved in a silent complaint. He covered his face and cried silently... and Law told himself that crying was a progress, in order to not feel so helpless. He put one hand on the boy's shoulder to wordlessly support him now and wondered if the same could be told in his own case, too. He remembered that, having finished his story, he'd felt relieved, although earlier he'd been so certain he would feel worse. But, he asked himself, was it possible to feel even _worse?_ Probably not. He couldn't imagine anything worse might happened to him after the tragedies he'd experienced, and his imagination had been always wild.

Still, he didn't have enough courage to believe that any recovery might still happen in him. Not at his age, not at this stage. Scars were to stay in his soul for ever, he couldn't remove them and replace with healthy tissue. The events from his past had shaped him, and there was no way to revert it. No, there was no hope for him... but things were different for Rosapelo. It was the boy he should focus on and help recover, both physically and psychologically, so that he could return on the right path of his life, hurt but not changed.

Finally, sobbing ceased to shake Rosapelo's body. The boy sniffed for the last time - Law thought he should provide him with the packet of soft tissues - and wiped his face with his hand. He stared at the cover for a longer while until he finally glanced briefly at Law before averting his gaze right away. His blue eyes were still glistening.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered.

"Hey, there's no need for that," Law replied, squeezing his arm lightly. "Cry as much as you wish. It will help you..."

"Law-san...?"

"Yes?"

"Are you really... going to stay?" Rosapelo asked in a choked whisper.

"That's what I promised to you," Law confirmed.

"Why?"

Law felt his lips twitch. "Are we going to have the festival of 'why', again...?" he threw, but as the boy hunched, he added quickly, "I want to help you... for I think you need someone to help you now." _Someone I didn't have... Although I could have; I just didn't let them,_ he thought. "Will you let me, Pelo?"

The boy said nothing.

"But you do want me to stay?"

Now Rosapelo nodded, just like before.

"Why?" it was Law's turn to ask, although he hadn't planned it... but he knew it puzzled him, and once he started, it was hard to stop. "Why me, Pelo? Why did you want to speak... to contact only with me? Why not Clione or his staff...? I know that you didn't react to their voices at all, I checked it using the Ope Ope no Mi... only to mine."

The boy kept silent for a longer while, as if he was thinking of it. When he raised his head, there was a vertical wrinkle on his forehead. "I don't know," he finally said, and Law told himself it wasn't the right time to feel disappointed. "I just... I thought I knew... your voice...?"

Law blinked. So, he'd been right about it; he'd been printed in Rosapelo's memory to such an extent that even catatonia couldn't throw him out of the boy's psyche. He was mortified.

"You mean... That day, in my office, two weeks ago... I scared you so much that you got..." He stopped. He didn't want to say 'trauma', while it was this word he thought of.

Rosapelo gave him a hesitating look and then slowly shook his head. "You didn't scare me," he replied quietly.

"Phew, that's some relief," Law muttered in affectation, although, in fact, he was under terrible pressure.

Rosapelo straightened up in the bed. "I wasn't scared of you... never," he said as if he wished to clear some misunderstanding.

Law felt a pang in his heart. "I'm glad. There's no need to be scared of me," he assured and tried to smile, but it came out quite weak.

He couldn't shake off the embarrassment. He'd never forgiven himself having mistreated the boy two weeks ago... Now, however, he couldn't do anything about it, he just _had to_ somehow compensate for it to him... Well, everything he planned to do from now on, was aimed at helping Rosapelo, so maybe at some point, in some time, he would manage to forget that guilty feeling that he had every time he recalled their confrontation. He had no choice but to believe it.

"In any case, I'll stay by your side like I promised," he repeated. "If you want my help, you'll have it, Pelo. You can count on it... And I will hope that you will accept it and... And recover." He breathed deeply, for it was difficult. "What I want the most, though, is that you could promise me you won't hurt yourself... Well, I'd like you to assure me you're going to live... but I realise you must make the decision yourself... not that Clione made it any easier," he added with a sneer.

Rosapelo stared at him again, his brows still knitted, and then turned to the window.

"But I eat," he muttered, clenching his fingers on the cover.

Law blinked. Was the boy saying that...?

"And I promised you that I won't do anything," Rosapelo added even more quietly.

"When?"

"Then, two weeks ago..."

"Two weeks...?" Now it was Law who frowned, but his perfect memory offered the right image immediately. "Oh."

He was staring at the boy's profile in blank astonishment. 'I'll let you go if you promise you won't do anything', he'd said, and Rosapelo had nodded. But... Law had meant only that moment, hadn't thought of anything else... and the boy had applied it to the whole future, too...? No, that was impossible, no normal person could understand it that way... but Rosapelo hadn't been of sound mind that time...? Had he really stuck to that promise, even though he couldn't see any sense to it, for why should he...? Law felt like moaning. Honestly, it was better to leave the psychiatric patients to Clione.

"In that case..." he spoke when he finally regained his speech and all puzzles were in their places. "I should've spared myself telling this story...?"

Rosapelo turned his head to look at him again. Under that serious stare of the blue eyes, Law frantically asked himself if he was the greatest fool in the world... or not yet.

"No," the boy finally spoke. "I feel better now... Thank you."

And Law thought that for the first time he could see something different from despair on his face: some dignity of a man who, despite uneven chances, had taken a fight and planned to give his best.

He felt so moved that he had to swallow down several times in order to contain himself. He didn't want to cry any more. Instead, he smiled at the boy, first shyly, then wider until the smile reached his eyes.

"That's good," he said simply. "I'm glad."


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

In mid-March, the situation seemed much brighter.

Rosapelo's recovery process didn't happen smoothly and without disturbances, but after one month and a half since the tragic events, the boy felt much better, both in body and in soul. Physically, he recovered fully. His weight returned to normal, and he could move in a natural way. Colours were restored to his face, his body strengthened, and he seemed an average healthy teenager. His blue eyes were alive and focused, and his brown hair had grown as long that they fell on the said eyes and he had to brush them from his forehead all the time. No-one ever remembered to cut them short.

As for his psychological well-being, a full recovery was impossible, at least for now. The boy still spoke little, hardly ever asked questions spontaneously or communicated his opinions, and when he did spoke, his voice was quiet, and it seemed he had troubles with expressing himself. His movements were somewhat slow, cautious and indicated he lacked vigour and energy. For most of the time, he was calm, serious and pensive. He almost never got angry or annoyed, but sadness could be often seen in his eyes, although he no longer cried.

Law observed it with an unpleasant feeling that he could give that boy health but not happiness. It was something he wasn't accustomed to, for when he saved the terminally ill patients in the Corazon Memorial Hospital, in ninety-nine percent he fulfilled their greatest wishes, those they wouldn't admit to themselves and couldn't even believe for it to be possible. Being saved from a normally incurable disease was usually a reason to be happy... In this situation, however, the wounds in soul were much deeper than any damage to the body. Law could still remember that, even though the Ope Ope no Mi had cured him of the Amber Lead Syndrome, it hadn't changed anything in his psychological state, hadn't consoled him, hadn't eased his grief. Now, in Rosapelo's case, he had to swallow down the bitter realisation that, even if he did everything in his might, the final effect would be far from satisfactory and that particular patient would depart from Raftel only partially healthy.

It didn't change the fact that he engaged in Rosapelo's recovery process without reservation. To say that the teenager and he had become inseparable over that one month would be exaggerating, but he did spend with the boy his all free time - he even managed to be late for consultations several times, for in presence of his patient he lost track of the time - and he told himself it certainly mattered. Also, he dedicated his next day off, in March, to the boy, who was still in the custody of Clione and occupied the room in the Seven. Because Rosapelo could already move, they went to the All Baratie, where Sanji waited on them like it befitted the former cook of the Pirate King; in other words, they were received with a feast, and on the house. To tell the truth, Rosapelo didn't seem to enjoy the exquisite dishes more than milk soup and onigiri from the hospital canteen, but fortunately the greatest chef in the world didn't seem offended by the lack of enthusiastic reaction. As for other entertainments of the New Piece, they declined, for it wasn't a proper time to have fun yet, even though Nami, apparently informed by Sanji, came to them and insisted that they visited the cinema, casino or any other of the numerous attractions. Law was glad that they were spared the meeting with Luffy. Well, they were just lucky; Straw Hat had set out on another voyage just two days earlier, and shouldn't be back sooner than in a few months.

Before that, Law and Rosapelo had a difficult conversation about the funeral of the boy's mother and an even more difficult visit in the city morgue. Rosapelo wanted to glance at the woman who had born and raised him and had been his closest relative, and was gone now. Law couldn't refuse. The teenager handled it well - he'd accepted that his mother had died, and knew she would never be back - and when Law offered that the woman was buried in the Roger Bay cemetery, the boy acquiesced to it without any discussion. The hospital paid all costs. On the gravestone were carved the woman's name along with the dates of her birth and death. Law learned her name was Irma and she'd died at the age of thirty-six. He accompanied the boy both during the funeral - apart from the two of them, also Clione, Bepo and two psychiatric nurses participated in the modest ceremony - and the next visits to the grave.

Over the time, Rosapelo became the favourite of the staff of the Seven and several other persons who would gladly keep him a company when Law was busy with his work. One of them was Bepo who took a great liking to the boy, maybe because he'd met him before in the emergency unit. However, much to Law's deeply hidden satisfaction, Rosapelo would speak to others much less than to him - which meant, _very little_ \- no matter how they tried to drag him into the conversation or encourage to some activity. Of course, he showed them much less emotions than Law, too. Even Bepo, who was ready to carry him on his shoulders and fulfil his every wish, wouldn't get any spontaneous reaction out of that thirteen-year-old boy. 'I think he doesn't like me,' he used to complain to Law, who assured him it certainly wasn't the case. 'Wasn't I the same when me first met?' he asked, which made Bepo shiver all over and state, 'This world doesn't need another you,' and Law decided not to feel offended this time.

Still, he knew that Rosapelo wasn't like him. During one month and a half, he'd managed to get to know the boy quite well, for Rosapelo would talk about himself when Law asked him to. Apart from the medical issues, the boy was a perfectly ordinary kid, maybe slightly more well-behaved than his peers. In school, he was an average pupil, better in some subjects and worse in the others. He didn't possess any particular gifts or passions, but he liked to play football and read about journeys, even though he had never sailed farther than to Raftel. Of course, there was a possibility that shouldn't be ignored: that in his current state of mind, Rosapelo saw himself in an non-objective view and showed himself in a worse light than in reality; nevertheless, from his tale emerged a perfectly normal boy who'd used to live his daily life without any greater dramas. Except for the unusual blue eyes, Rosapelo didn't stand out appearance-wise, either: he was of average height and weight, and his hair were of light-brown colour. Law, who'd been surrounded with more or less distinctive personalities for the most of his life, was almost amazed that someone so ordinary could exist, but it didn't really matter. After a month of a close relationship, he couldn't imagine Rosapelo to be someone else. It was just like he'd decided: he'd accepted the boy as a whole and didn't mean to discuss with his individual traits.

The boy probably got to know him, too, for it just happened that with him Law allowed himself to be honest like he wasn't with anyone else. Maybe it was because he'd had a good start - that time when there'd been no contact with the boy and he'd rambled on and on whatever had come to his mind and what, strangely enough, had been exactly what he'd thought and felt - and later it'd just kind of flowed...? He didn't particularly wonder about it, for sharing certain things with Rosapelo seemed the most natural thing under the sun. Also, maybe he considered it a good occasion for trying to change something in his messed up psyche, an occasion that would never occur again...? After all, when he'd disclosed those painful truths about himself, all those difficult secrets from his past that he'd kept inside until then, it'd made him feel relieved; and since he was the type to learn quickly, he'd decided to keep confessing before that particular person. It didn't mean that he talked about his childhood all the time - nor did Rosapelo grill him about it - but sometimes it just happened that the situation needed a specific anecdote or a specific example that he could naturally put into the conversation, and the boy would listen carefully and never interrupt.

Although it could be only his wishful thinking in question, Law was under the impression that after their every talk, one wound closed in his soul. He didn't know how many of them were there and if it was possible to heal them all. Well, it was certain that nothing could be done about those that had already scarred up, deforming and twisting him, but maybe... maybe he could still save the whole of who he was, shape it in a better way, correct its function to get a bit closer to its original one, from long ago...? Maybe it was still possible to awake a human in him - that human that Corazon had once got out of the monster skin and whom Law himself had then turned into something equally inhuman: the emotionally annihilated best doctor in the world...?

Not that he wondered about those things on his daily basis. Most of the time, he focused on helping Rosapelo return to the normal life; that was what he put his all effort in. He was glad for the medical progress the boy made, and was sad because of his patient's sadness and tragedy. He reluctantly accepted his own limits, and sometimes he felt completely helpless when unable to provide the comfort. Rosapelo, however, was getting stronger physically, and Law had to believe that also psychologically he would recover, even though the sad expression seemed to communicate that the boy had lost all joy. Still, he'd decided to live on, and nothing indicated he planned to hurt himself, so at least one goal had been achieved. The decision to live on didn't guarantee a happiness... but it still gave a better chance for it than dying, that was beyond doubt. As far as he was concerned, Law wished Rosapelo be happy again with all his heart.

On March 20, Clione asked him for a talk.

"We have a problem," he said outright, and Law suppressed a sigh. He already knew who the conversation would be about.

"What problem?" he asked without enthusiasm.

They were sitting in the office of the head psychiatrist. It was only the first day of spring, but the beautiful weather outside made winter seem but an unpleasant memory. The sun had been beating down on Raftel day by day, the air had been warm, and flowers were blooming in the lawn in front of the hospital: crocuses, primroses, and pasqueflowers. The sky was of the intense azure blue that made Law think of Rosapelo's eyes. The ocean had colour of deep sapphire, glistening with the white of gulls floating on the waves. It was calm, and the world seemed devoid of any evil. The last month and a half had passed without any catastrophes in the vicinity, and the Corazon Memorial Hospital had been working according to the familiar routine. In such circumstances, Clione saying that they had a problem sounded almost indecent.

"Rosapelo has practically recovered..."

Law raised his eyebrows. "That is a problem?" he asked with a taunt.

Clione didn't pay any attention to his sarcasm, only replied calmly, "We can't keep him here any longer."

Law felt a prick in his chest, some kind of warning, but he consciously decided to ignore it. Of course, Rosapelo was to be discharged sooner or later, just like every patient of the hospital.

"And?"

"Where will he go?"

Now Law frowned. "What do you mean?" he asked, although he had a feeling he knew it himself.

"I mean that he has no relatives," the psychiatrist explained in a voice suitable for a half-wit. "Has anyone visited him during his hospitalisation?"

Law knew that no-one had, but... "No relatives?"

"No relatives, at least not anywhere near," Clione replied in a crisp tone. "We wrote to the magistrate on Vokzel, but the answer we got is, 'no living relatives slash information unavailable'. We know that his maternal grandparents died long ago, and his aunt, his mother's only sister and much older, left the island before Rosapelo was even born and there's no contact with her. His father came from somewhere else and abandoned the family when the boy was two or three," he recounted, then looked Law in the eye and said, "The truth is, Law, that Rosapelo has nowhere to go."

Law was silent. True, he did know that the boy had lost the only member of family when his mother had died, but he didn't suspect that there were _no relatives_ at all. He'd probably assumed that some aunts and uncles, cousins and so on lived on Vokzel... In truth, he hadn't wondered about it at all, as he hadn't about the fact that no-one had visited the boy over almost two months nor had come to pick up his mother's body. Law had known that Rosapelo had lived only with his mother, and the boy had declined having any siblings, but he'd never said that he had _no-one_.

He focused his sight on Clione again. "What now?"

"Why do you ask me?"

"Well... Because you always have a solution for everything," Law muttered what he actually thought.

"It flatters me," the psychiatrist replied, and the corner of his lips twitched. "Normally, I would blush..." He shook his head and his gaze turned serious again. "I don't have a solution, but it occurred to me that you could write to your nurse friend from Vokzel and ask for her help...?"

"What, should I ask her to take in the boy?" Law blurted.

Now it was Clione's turn to frown. "Law, has spring gone to your head?" he asked in a composed voice. "So far, you haven't said anything lucid during this conversation, quite the contrary... except for that compliment. No, I meant that maybe your friend could ask after Rosapelo's relatives...? Get to know something that isn't in the documents. You know her better than I. I have no-one on Vokzel that I could ask for that."

Law stifled a curse, realising that he actually had deserved the psychiatrist's comment about his thought process. The news of the boy's relatives - or, rather, their lack - had surprised him completely. Contrary to the medical, he couldn't easily remedy this problem, and such situations usually threw him off balance, even if just slightly. In any case, Clione's suggest seemed sound, even if it didn't guarantee a success, that he understood immediately.

"What if Ida doesn't learn anything? If she doesn't find anyone?"

"Then the boy will be sent to the orphanage on Vokzel," Clione replied outright, looking him in the eye. "We can't keep him here."

Law returned his gaze, trying to take in those words. He didn't quite succeed, but he nodded nonetheless.

"Unless, of course, we don't decide to adopt him, you and me, and live like a happy family," the psychiatrist added with a sweet smile.

Unlike his previous statement, _that_ immediately help Law regain his ability of quick thinking. "Spring has gone to your head, too, for talking such nonsense," he snapped back. "That was an extremely unfunny joke. I'm not going to marry you."

"Well, we can always live in sin..." Clione replied, rolling his eyes.

Law fell speechless again, and he only stared at the colleague for a longer while. He was under the impression that the head of the Seven had discovered the new reserves of absurd and had decided to use them.

"What sin? What the hell are you talking about, Clione?" he finally asked in a weak voice; then, however, he quickly raised his both hands, realising he hadn't met a single normal psychiatrist yet and it apparently wouldn't happen anytime soon. "No, I didn't ask," he corrected... and then added without even planning, "Besides, it's you who dumped me, no?"

Clione fluttered his eyelashes. "Are you going to rub it in my face forever...?" he asked theatrically.

Law closed his eyes to open them only after several seconds. "This conversation is more stupid than any we've had so far. I'm going to pretend it never happened," he stated. "Fine, I'll contact Ida and convey your request to her. Do you need me for anything else? No? Then, I'm off. I'm busy," he informed, got up and made for the door.

"Just don't forget," Clione said after him.

"I have no dementia yet," Law replied under his breath.

"I'm only concerned about some 'mysterious' amnesia," the psychiatrist mumbled.

Law glanced over his shoulder and shook his head in disapproval before exiting.

Over the last weeks, he'd managed to forget that Clione could be so annoying. Despite spending a lot of time on the Seven, he'd rarely run into its head doctor. Clione wasn't someone whom Law needed on his daily basis, and thus he hadn't noticed that recently the psychiatrist hardly ever showed his face around him... It was only now that he found it suspicious, although he couldn't think of any reason why Clione should avoid him. Well, treasure to a man who managed to figure out a psychiatrist's motives... Law could think of it for a month straight, and he still wouldn't get it, so he could as well spare himself that pleasure now.

He returned to what they'd talked about... So Rosapelo had no-one - really, _no-one_ \- who could take care of him? Law had never inquired about his family... mostly because it didn't interest him. But, in that context, his mother's death - tragic enough on its own - became even more cruel. According to the magistrate, he had no relatives on Vokzel, the only lead being the aunt that had departed from the island years ago. Of course, maybe there were some cousins of second or third degree, but the letter hadn't mentioned them, so they probably lived somewhere else...

Asking Ida for help was a good idea, but could the nurse learn anything? Clione probably thought she would go and ask the neighbours of the boy and his mother, and so on... Someone - maybe Mrs Irma's good friend? - might remember something, like, where her older sister had gone to. It was quite an unpleasant task, at least from Law's point of view, as the only relationship he wanted to have with other people was a doctor-patient relationship. He could never go door to door and inquire about the events from the past; the very idea made a shiver run down his spine. When he'd been still a pirate, it'd been his crew responsible for gathering information; he'd been there to analyse it.

Okay, he returned to the issue at hand, what if Ida learned nothing? Well, they could put a notice in the world newspapers and hope that some relatives would step forward. As far as Law could tell, the boy's name was quite rare, so listed with the name of the island would undoubtedly indicate this Rosapelo. What if that didn't work, either? Clione had said that the boy would be sent to an orphanage, which sounded... bad. But was there any other option? Rosapelo was only thirteen; at this age, a normal kid couldn't take care of himself and live on his own. Nevertheless, the chances that a stranger took him in and offered him a shelter were small...

Hmm, maybe Law should ask around other doctors or even draw up a petition to his employees that someone adopted the boy...? The personnel of the hospital was well over one thousand people; surely, there would be someone willing to...? He pretty much liked that solution; no only would Rosapelo stay on Raftel, at least for some time, but he would be taken care of by someone willing to do so, not forced to it. What if the distant relatives considered the boy as a nuisance and taken him in only because they felt obliged to...?

Law had a temptation to never write to Ida... but in the end, he fought it. From a legal perspective, kinship was given the precedence, and Rosapelo could be in an unpleasant situation if he were adopted without knowledge or consent of his living relatives. Besides, Law should hold his horses; the matter required a methodical approach, and he should move to the next stage only after the previous hadn't given the result. It was pointless to worry in advance.

He realised, however, that the thought of parting with Rosapelo didn't fill him with enthusiasm. Over the last month, the boy had become a part of his daily life. Law had spent with him every moment he had at his disposal. It was hard to imagine Rosapelo leaving Raftel one day. What would Law do, having so much time on his hands? He couldn't quite remember how his days had been before the boy had appeared, even though it'd been just two months ago... and for thirteen previous years. They'd been probably filled with working, working and working even more: from morning to evening, without resting, with only short lunch breaks. He realised he didn't find it endearing: the thought of getting back to that...

The thought of work, however, reminded him that Rosapelo was a patient, and that was _why_ Law had spent so much time with him, in the first place. It was natural that a patient whose treatment was over would leave a hospital. Even if Rosapelo's case wasn't typical, the boy had been an ill person in need of help. It was Law's primary idea: to restore his health, regardless of the length of the therapy. That Rosapelo would leave the Corazon Memorial Hospital - and, according to Clione, his treatment was almost done - was a happy thing, and Law should stick to it.

"Why didn't you tell me that you have no relatives here?" he asked the boy the next time they met.

"You didn't ask," Rosapelo replied quietly.

"True... But it somewhat complicates the things. As if they weren't complicated already," Law muttered. "Soon, we'll be able to discharge you, that's the opinion of out favourite psychiatrist. The question is, where will you go?"

The boy said nothing.

They were sitting by the table in his room, that was now looking entirely different it had one month ago. There were some enlarged photographs of distant places hanging on the wall. Books and magazines were lying on the bedside table and the windowsill. A small wardrobe was full of clothes provided by the nurses. The room no longer resembled a sterile place in a clinic; it had turned into much a more personalised space of someone who stayed here for a longer while.

Rosapelo himself had long since stopped wearing the hospital pyjamas - psychiatry was the only ward that the patients were allowed to dress in their normal clothes - and had put on trousers, T-shirt and a hoodie. Most of the time, he stayed in his room, for he didn't feel particularly comfortable in the common spaces of the Seven. He was the only underage patient on the ward; then again, there was no guarantee that, had any children come, they would like to spend time with him. However, whenever possible, he was being brought out to the park or the beach by Law or someone else, so that he could get some fresh air. For obvious reasons, the windows in psychiatry couldn't be opened.

"The magistrate on Vokzel informed us that you have an aunt... It's your mom's sister, right?" Law resumed the conversation after the prolonged silence.

"I've never met her," Rosapelo answered.

"Was your mom in contact with her? Did you get any letters?"

The boy shook his head. "No. Mom rarely talked about her."

"What's her name?" Law asked belatedly.

"Aila. Aunt Aila."

The silence fell again. The gulls were piercing the air outside, and their screams could be heard even through soundproof windows.

"And your grandparents?" Law asked after a moment.

"They died before I was born."

"Any second cousins...?" Law kept asking, although he had the impression his effort was pointless.

Rosapelo shook his head again, and Law suppressed a sigh. It seemed that the boy's relatives were either dead or didn't want to have anything to do with him. As for the father, Law wasn't going to ask about him at all... If the man had left his wife and a two or three-year-old child, he wasn't someone to be trusted with the boy, that one was beyond doubt.

"My grandparents came from somewhere else. That's why I have no relatives on Vokzel..." Rosapelo added in an apologetic voice.

"Don't worry about it. We'll think of something," Law tried to comfort him, although the situation looked quite bad. "What would you like to do today?"

In the end, taking advantage of fine weather, they decided to have a walk on the beach. Law reminded Rosapelo to put on the jacket, as the boy seemed to attach to attention to the temperature outside. It wasn't that he didn't feel cold; he just wouldn't think of dressing appropriately for the weather. Law had once asked about it but hadn't got any answer, so he'd come to the conclusion that it could be some complication of depression that would recede sooner or later. According to Clione, something like that couldn't be ruled out, especially that Rosapelo occasionally seemed quite absent.

It was calm today. The swans were floating by the shore, fed by two elderly women from the city. A ship crossed the bay - judging from the size, a long-distance liner - to disappear beyond the horizon soon. All in all, the walk was quite pleasant, but on their way back something that Law hadn't expected happened. Rosapelo tripped on an invisible obstacle and fell on the stone path before Law managed to react. When the boy got up, he had a painful expression on his face, although he didn't make any sound.

"You've broken your arm," Law said without any emotion.

Rosapelo only nodded, and it was when Law came to his senses.

"Sorry, I'll take care of it. ROOM."

It was easier to teleport to his office than the boy's room, so that was where they went. Over the last month, Rosapelo had managed to get used to the sudden changes in location - before he'd regained his physical strength, Law would occasionally use the Ope Ope no Mi to take him from psychiatry to other places - so he didn't even blink. Law seated him on the coach.

"Lie down, it won't take long," he said.

Rosapelo did as he was told, and then Law put him into sleep to cure his fracture. Both bones of the forearm were broken, but fortunately without dislocation, so treatment really didn't take long. Just like before, Law didn't find any abnormality in the boy's organism. In his memory, he recalled the scene he'd just witnessed, although there wasn't really much to recall. Rosapelo had been walking at a leisurely pace and then suddenly had fallen forward and down. He couldn't have tripped over anything - the road was even, tiled with the stone plates - except for his own legs. As a doctor, Law didn't want to accept that the boy was clumsy by nature, not when that clumsiness had harmful effects on his health. Rosapelo wasn't a superhuman with unnatural physical endurance whom even setting himself aflame couldn't hurt...

Law sat down on the floor and rested his back on the coach. Rosapelo would sleep for a moment; Law could use that time for a quick revising the facts about the boy's health. Rosapelo had started to come to the Corazon Memorial Hospital with the fractures last year. Law had met him during the third hospitalisation, when he'd heard from the boy himself about two previous fractures. It wasn't that he'd been breaking his bones from birth, only during the last year; the problem has started then, which ruled out the innate clumsiness. Also, Law remembered Rosapelo's mother saying that the boy had just started to trip often, which hadn't happened earlier. The sudden problem with keeping balance couldn't result from growing up, either, for the boy hadn't entered the growth spurt.

However Law wished to see it, everything indicated some pathological process. The thing was that he still couldn't find it.

When the boy came to, he smiled to him wryly. "Any better?" he asked.

The boy sat up and raised his hands, then moved it up and down several times. "Yes."

"You know what, Pelo? I think it's too early to discharge you," Law stated, and it was probably the wisest thing he'd said today.

Rosapelo looked at him for a moment and then nodded. "I guess so," he said quietly.

For some reason, Law was relieved.

* * *

Ida's reply came as soon as four days later.

_I'm so happy I can be of some use to you. I'm indebted to you and your hospital, so I'll always be glad to help you. I feel somewhat responsible for that particular matter, because I travelled with Mrs Irma and Rosapelo to Raftel during that dreadful storm. According to your suggestion, I tried to learn about the two of them in the house they'd lived in, not that it was particularly difficult. Mrs Irma was liked by everyone around, she'd been a polite and helpful person, and her neighbours were truly saddened upon learning she is dead, but they were also grateful for the information, because they'd had no idea where the two had suddenly disappeared. Mrs Irma and her son lived in the tenement house in the city centre and, fortunately, their neighbours were mostly elderly people. I write 'fortunately' because you can learn quite a lot from the old people, as they use to remember many events from the past. Because Mrs Irma had been so popular among her neighbours, many of them wanted to talk about her. Among them was an old lady called Fanny, who had been friends with Mrs Irma's mother, that is, Rosapelo's grandmother. Here is what I learned:_

_Mrs Irma's parents, Elina and Vasco, came from another island and settled down on Vokzel as a young, newly-wed couple. They never talked about their past, just as if they had cut themselves off it, but Elina once mentioned that they'd got married against their parents' will, and that was why they'd been forced to leave their homeland. They were quickly blessed with their eldest daughter, whose name is Aila. Irma, for her part, was twelve years younger! According to the neighbours, the sisters didn't have a good relation because Irma was spoiled by her parents while Aila was moved to the background. Irma, very trusting and wishing well to anyone, didn't even suspect that her older sister could despise her, and it was even worse. The girls had different characters, too: Aila was tenacious, used to say what she thought without caring about the feelings of other people, while Irma was good-natured, calm and polite. Of course she was the favourite of everyone in the neighbourhood. If Aila heard day by day about how bad she was, and was compared to the younger sister, it couldn't have possibly affected their mutual relation in a positive way. To tell the truth, I somehow sympathise with her._

_As a teenager, Aila often said that she would leave the island as soon as she turned adult. She planned to become a journalist and travel the world. The events, however, shaped differently, as the girls' mother began to suffer from a heart condition, and it only worsened until she could no longer tend to the house and her younger child. The girls' father worked in a mine, so he was often absent from home or resting. Aila, without really wanting that, had to take up her mother's duties. When Irma was thirteen, Mrs Elina died, and Mr Vasco followed her soon; he died in an accident. Aila was Irma's only relative - there was no-one else who could take care of the girl - so she'd had to postpone her plans for the future again, which must have been very hard. To provide for herself and her sister, she wrote to the local paper because the allowance wasn't enough to support them financially. I suppose the work was her solace - she could do what she liked - and that was why she managed to cope with the situation she'd been forced into._

_When Irma turned sixteen, a young man called Rivel started to adore her, and they would eventually get married. Aila was against that relationship because Rivel didn't seem a particularly trustworthy man, but you can't win against love and fascination (I know that by myself). According to some people, Rivel was the last straw, but I think that Aila only waited for an occasion... for the day when she could get out of Vokzel. After Irma's seventeenth birthday, Aila set out on the sea and planned to never return. Irma accepted Rivel's proposal, maybe because she was left with no family, and it's hard for a seventeen-year-old girl to live all alone. Of course, at first, Rivel adored her like a queen, but as the time passed, his young wife couldn't engage him any more, and he started to leave home, his absence turning longer every time. People suspected that he was involved in some 'shady deals', for he never had a decent work, and even if he found one, he wasn't able to keep it. It seems, however, that he didn't succeed with his 'shady deals' either, because the couple had only as much money as for the basic needs, and in the end Irma had to contribute to the household budget with her own work, that was embroidery. Personally, I think that if someone is a good-for-nothing by nature, he wouldn't succeed in any field, and that man seems to me as one: that type who is attracted by fast money that doesn't require any effort. But our world doesn't work that way._

_Rosapelo was born after seven years, when the marriage existed more on paper than in reality. One could even wonder if Rivel is the boy's father, but the man never denied it, and Mrs Fanny claims that the two of them bear a physical resemblance, even though it's the only thing that Rosapelo took after his father, fortunately. In any case, that man wasn't cut for a family life - by then, he must have been completely bored with his wife, and the role of a father didn't suit him. Suffice it to say, that one day he disappeared for good. Rosapelo wasn't even three then and probably can't remember him at all. Mrs Irma never spoke of her husband again, although it doesn't seem like she hated him. Many people that I spoke with, described her as a good and honest woman who never wished anyone bad or complained. After Rivel's leaving, she continued to provide for the family with her embroidery; since she was very gifted, she had no shortage of orders. She and Rosapelo didn't have to starve, and the boy had all school books and supplies, but their life was rather modest nonetheless._

_So much about Irma and Rivel. Let's move to Aila, who left Vokzel twenty years ago. You wrote that according to Rosapelo she never contacted her sister, and my sources (the neighbours) confirm it. Aila realised her dream and became a journalist. At first, she wrote about travelling, but later she went over to politics and, in the end, she became a war correspondent. Her articles were being published even in the worldwide press, and when I checked out the library, I managed to find some. However, it seems she no longer works as a journalist, but I don't know the reason. I called several newspaper offices, also the one she'd worked for as the latest, and I got a contact address they had in their archives. It's the only piece of information, the only trace of her I managed to get, although I don't even know if that address is valid. Because we have nothing else, I sent a letter via express mail - it's somewhere in the first half of the New World - and now I'm awaiting the answer. I included the number of my Den Den Mushi, if they'd rather called me. I have no idea how long should I wait, but I promise to contact you in one week, and I hope I would be wiser by then._

Law read the letter two times. He was greatly impressed; Ida had managed to learn so much in just a few days. If she hadn't been a nurse by vocation, she would do greatly as a detective... They still didn't have any concretes at hands, but there was at least _some_ piece of information that they could hold to and that _might_ lead them to Rosapelo's living relatives.

Then, however, he felt doubtful. Even if they managed to contact Rosapelo's aunt, would that woman wish to take care of her nephew that she'd never seen and probably didn't even know about? Moreover, according to the letter, Aila wasn't fond of the boy's parents, and she had been forced to give up on her plans to look after her little sister. Even suspecting her of the best intentions, Law couldn't quite imagine that woman be enthusiastic upon the thought of once more taking care of an underage relative.

Well, they would worry about it when - if - Aila contacted them. It was an old address, the woman hadn't been apparently heard of for a longer while, and many things may have happened since then. There was a substantial possibility that the piece of information Ida had got wouldn't be of any use. Law was under the vague impression that was what he counted for.

* * *

Rosapelo's recurrent fractures bothered him, as was the thought of the boy leaving the hospital without getting any better in that matter. In the end, Law decided to perform a detailed scanning of his body... that was, even more detailed than before. He realised he _may_ have missed something. All patients that came to him had their disease either diagnosed or so advance it was evident: one scan with the Ope Ope no Mi, and everything was clear. As Law used to cure incurable or hopeless conditions, he didn't meet people who seemed to be _healthy_.

This time, however, someone like that happened to be here. Rosapelo wasn't terminally ill, had no long-term symptoms and, apart from the fractures, was a picture of health. It could be that the routine check by the Ope Ope no Mi was negative because the pathological changes were microscopic or scarce, or both. That was why Law decided to 'divide' the boy's body into parts and systematically check them one by one, having a close look at... well, maybe not at every cell, but something like that. Of course, such a process would take a longer while, but there was no hurry.

Law still couldn't tell if the problem was in the boy's muscles or the nervous system - or maybe something else? The bones were without fault, no matter how many times Law examined them. Rosapelo consistently denied feeling dizzy or weak before his falls. From his point of view, he just suddenly lost his balance, tripped, couldn't take a normal step. It indicated some kind of movement disorder, but what could be the cause? That was a mystery. Law had to believe that a detailed diagnostics - the most detailed he'd ever done - would be effective and provide him with some answers.

"Am I correct that, the first time, you fell down the stairs? It was your leg, right?" he asked the next day. "Could you tell me how it happened?"

"I was descending the staircase in our house. I was almost down, I had only three or four steps left, but then my leg kind of got sloppy and I fell forward. I think the bone was broken when I hit the step, as the whole weight was concentrated there," Rosapelo answered matter-of-factedly.

"It was probably so," Law agreed. "Do you remember if you hit your head?"

"No. I only bruised my shoulder but didn't broke it. I wore a thick jacket, it was winter... One year ago."

"Are you certain you didn't hurt your head when falling?" Law asked again.

"I am."

"Mhm."

So much for the theory that the first tumble - perfectly accidental - might have caused a damage to the brain. And Rosapelo did remember that his leg had 'got sloppy', which had happened later, too. What was the next step in the algorithm...?

"Law-san...?" the boy's hesitating voice broke his reverie.

"Yes?"

"Are my frequent fractures a problem?" Rosapelo asked in a quiet voice, staring down.

Law remained silent for a moment. "A bit," he replied in the end. "Because I don't know what causes them. It's slightly embarrassing that the greatest doctor in the worlds can't find the reason why they happen," he explained with a crooked smile.

"But for you..." Rosapelo uttered.

"For me?" Law repeated in astonishment. "Why should it..." He frowned upon realising what the boy _really_ asked. "Wait a moment, Pelo. Do you think _you_ give me a trouble? Is that what you meant?"

The boy said nothing.

Law sighed. "Pelo, don't you even think that. You're not a problem and will never be," he said with emphasis. "The problem is only your strange affliction, but I'm going to take care of it. Hospital is a place that people with diseases come to, and we treat them, that's all," he explained calmly. "A patient shouldn't feel guilty for their disease... Well, maybe if he brought it upon himself, then a bit of remorse wouldn't harm him. But as far as I can tell, you don't break your bones on purpose."

Rosapelo nodded.

"In any case, it seems you're going to stay here a bit longer because I plan to give you a detailed scan."

The boy glanced up at him. "A bit longer?" he asked.

"Yes."

Rosapelo seemed to be wanting to inquire about something more, but in the end he gave up and only nodded.

"I promise you that-" Law started and stopped. He wanted to guarantee the boy that he would leave the hospital perfectly healthy and would never suffer from the fractures again, but he realised that he couldn't promise that, despite his best intentions. That was why he only repeated, "I'll take care of it," and felt like he was, in fact, cheating.

Rosapelo, however, nodded again. He didn't seem to despise him for his imperfection. "All right," he said.

Law smiled lightly and activated the Ope Ope no Mi. He had a lot of work to do.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Ida called exactly one week later, on the last day of March. Law had given her his number in case she needed to contact him quickly, but he'd informed her that she could catch him no sooner than evening.

"I could write to you, but I'm too excited," she announced right off the bat, and said excitation was clearly audible. Then, however, she asked, "You did get my letter, right?"

"I did. So, have you managed to contact Rosapelo's aunt?" Law guessed with pretty moderate enthusiasm.

"Not really, but..." He could almost hear Ida shook her head. "I'm going to tell you everything. I just got a call, and I had to contact you right away. It was Mrs Aila's sister-in-law who called me, that is Mrs Aila's husband's sister. It is her who got my letter. Mrs Aila died some years ago," she said in a lower voice. "She was badly wounded during a mission. Of course, I didn't ask about the details, but I learned she'd become disabled and started to suffer from neurological symptoms. Rehabilitation wasn't really successful. That's why she had to give up her work, despite being very respected journalist. Poor woman, she was bedridden, and the neurological deficit made it impossible for her to keep writing. Also, she lost her husband during the very same action; he was also a journalist. It's so sad, I'm under the impression that so many tragedies fell on her that it would be enough for several people..." now the nurse's voice rang with sorrow and honest compassion, although she must have encountered such things in her work before, as there were plenty of them in the world. "In any case, her condition only deteriorated, and she died after a few years of ailing. She had no children."

"It means that Rosapelo really has no relatives," Law said, although he couldn't quite tell what kind of emotion that knowledge evoked inside him.

"Yes, but Mrs Lise... that is, Mrs Aila's sister-in-law is ready to take care of him," Ida continued. "She told me she'd cared about Aila and tended to her during the illness. That address I wrote to..." she spoke the name of the town and the island, "It's where Mrs Aila's husband came from and where the two of them lived, as does Mrs Lise. Mrs Lise is married and has three sons, two of them still live with their parents. They are fifteen and sixteen, I don't remember their names. Mrs Lise works as a teacher. As far as I could tell, she's a decent and reasonable woman."

Law remained silent, trying to digest all the information. It's not that he had troubles following the thread... he just wasn't sure if Ida's revelation delighted him or the opposite.

"And she just wants to take care of someone she had never seen, just like that?" he finally spoke. "But Rosapelo isn't even her relative. He's a relative of her late sister-in-law who probably didn't even know he existed."

"I think sometimes blood ties aren't that important," Ida said. "It's true, Mrs Lise hadn't heard about Rosapelo's before, but she immediately believed in what I wrote in the letter. At least, she'd known about Mrs Aila's younger sister who'd stayed in her hometown. She discussed it with her husband, and they decided that if the boy was left with no family and they could provide him with home and care, then why shouldn't they. Their own children are almost the adults, and the two of them had steady jobs. Their financial situation is stable. As I said, it seems to me they are good people. Mrs Lise said that Mrs Aila regretted having no children on her own. Then, maybe Mrs Lise wants to see Rosapelo as her late sister-in-law's child and feels obliged to take care of him in such a crisis...? All in all, she didn't seem to know anything about the animosity between Mrs Aila and Mrs Irma. Maybe, in the end, Mrs Aila had never spoken ill about her sister. It's not hard to believe that. Time and distance heal all wounds."

Law knew all too well that sometimes blood ties were of no importance at all... but he still found it strange that a woman living halfway around the world was ready to invite to her home a completely unfamiliar teenager, and only because he was a nephew of her late sister-in-law. He just couldn't accept it without reservations.

"Law... are you still there?" he heard Ida's voice.

He gathered his thoughts. "I am... And what next?" he asked, although he doubted he really wanted to know it.

"Well, Mrs Lise said that she could quickly arrange it to come for Rosapelo. I informed her that he's in the hospital on Raftel. You mentioned that he's fine now and doesn't need any treatment...? That's what I initially told her, but I mentioned that I must make sure of it."

Now Law felt very confused. "Quickly?" he asked. "Which means what?"

"She could be here in the middle of April."

In the middle of April? That was two weeks from now, and for some reasons Law found it very distressing. Two weeks? Rosapelo would leave the Corazon Memorial Hospital in just two weeks? Such idea seemed completely unreal and entirely unacceptable.

He clenched his teeth and ordered himself to remain calm. That was what everything was about. Rosapelo's treatment was over, the boy had recovered and had to be discharged. That's _why_ they'd searched his relatives. That's _why_ Ida had contacted those people, who were his aunt's family. If there was someone wishing to take care of him... then that was the best thing, wasn't it...? Rosapelo wouldn't need to go to an orphanage, only would get foster parents and even siblings. After so many tragedies, he would again gain home, a place to regain his balance and make his daily life anew. He wouldn't need to live alone, which was never a right option for a child.

"Law...?" Ida's voice broke his reverie once more. "Shall I inform Mrs Lise to come here? Or does Rosapelo need a longer hospitalisation?"

Law suppressed a sudden urge to answer the latter question affirmatively. Yet, at the same time, he had the impression it was high time to end his acquaintance with Rosapelo. The boy had his own life, just like Law had his own. It was only natural that a patient left a hospital, and a doctor stayed. Sooner or later their ways would part... and 'sooner' was probably the better option here.

"She can set out," he said, and his voice seemed dull and devoid of emotion to his ears. "She can come here in the middle of April," he added... and, despite what he'd just thought, something akin to a message rang in those words, 'But no sooner!'

"All right. I'll call her immediately and pass your message. I'm glad Rosapelo recovered," Ida replied. "I'm sure he's tired of being sick and will be happy to finally leave the hospital. Okay, I won't take any more of your time. Have a nice evening!" she wished him and hung up.

Law sat with a receiver in his hand for a moment before putting it on a Den Den Mushi. He put his elbows on the desk and rested his forehead on the clasped fingers. Words, 'Rosapelo will surely be happy to finally leave the hospital' stung. But... why it shouldn't be exactly that? People weren't supposed to like being ill. For children, spending weeks or even months in hospital is a torture. Treatment should be as short, as quick as possible - and then back home. Back to normal life. Rosapelo couldn't be any exception. No-one should assume he _enjoyed_ staying in the Corazon Memorial Hospital on Raftel.

Law returned to Ida's question if the boy were all right and no longer needed any treatment. Sure, Rosapelo had recovered after the boating incident; he also regained, to the extent necessary, his mental health. In this regard, his hospitalisation had had its effect. But, Law frowned even more, the cause of his frequent falls and fractures hadn't been found, and it made Law feel ashamed. He'd examined Rosapelo from head to toe. He'd used the Ope Ope no Mi to scan his every organ and to inspect every cubic centimetre of his body, and found _no pathology_, even though the wholeness of that case - sudden collapses resulting in bone fractures - seemed nothing else but pathology.

As a doctor, he should trust the results and accept that medicine could do nothing about it... but as 'the greatest doctor in the world' he just wouldn't have it. He didn't like the idea that the boy left Raftel when still subject to fractures. True, fractures rarely were life-threatening - and, except for the ship accident, Rosapelo had so far broken only his arms and legs - and they could be treated anywhere in the world, but there was a risk that with bones so fragile the boy would spend the rest of his life in a cast.

Could Law really let him leave Raftel... let him go away beyond the reach of the Ope Ope no Mi, despite not having found and eliminated the cause of those fractures? Or should he rather settle for the fact that according to his Devil Fruit the boy was as healthy as any teenager and the fractures were 'only' a bad karma and he would never get rid of them...? Taking into account all tragedies the boy had already experienced, it seemed unfair that he should carry such a burden, too. Law felt everything inside him protest against such an eventuality... but he knew all to well that fate was rarely fair. In any case, he had a nasty impression that even if he kept Rosapelo on Raftel another year or two, or five, it wouldn't have any effect, wouldn't change anything in the boy's situation. He shouldn't let his doctor's pride guide him, right?

It took him a longer while before he could occupy himself with his work again.

* * *

The next day, right at their morning meeting, he told the boy about Ida's phone. There was no point in hiding it... and, besides, it was best to get over with it. A surgeon's instinct.

"Where is that?" Rosapelo uttered having heard the name of the island where his aunt had once lived and where he should soon move to.

"More or less, in the first part of the New World," Law replied calmly and dispassionately, although the boy's obvious shock made him feel unpleasant.

Rosapelo said nothing. He lowered his head so that the brown hair almost entirely obscured his face, and he started to nervously pull the straps of his hoodie. Law could tell that the boy didn't like the idea - and was there anything strange about it? He'd suddenly learned that in some two weeks he was about to leave his homeland to start living halfway across the world... in the place he hadn't been aware of until now.

"It's not an April Fool's Day joke...?" he asked in a low voice with his head still down.

They were sitting in his room - Rosapelo kept staying in psychiatry, even though there was no longer any indication for that, but after such a long hospitalisation there would be no point in moving him to paediatrics or anywhere else - by the table by the window, warmed by the sunlight. The weather was still fine, and the nature responded even more to the spring. The air was full of insects; a black spider was walking on the window ledge, moving its all eight legs. The lawns in the hospital park were green, and the flower beds had turned even more colourful. The branches of the young cherry trees - a gift of the Wano Country for the Straw Hats and Law, the allies from the Last Pirate War - were covered with fair blossom. The benches underneath were occupied by the patients in condition to leave outside and the staff members accompanying them. Law liked spring - it was in such a blissful contrast to winter - although he wasn't very fond of the cherry trees themselves, for their falling petals made him think of snow. A warp he could do nothing about.

He realised he wished he had only such problems at the moment.

"You don't seem very happy about it...?" he said, and Rosapelo lowered his head even more. "You should be glad you recovered and can go-" He paused. He'd wanted to say, 'go home', but it wouldn't be so in this case. "And can finally leave the hospital," he said instead, although his hesitation couldn't have escaped Rosapelo's attention.

He noticed his words were unnecessarily crisp, but the truth was he had to persuade the boy into leaving Raftel... just like he'd spent the most of the previous evening and even some part of the night trying to convince himself of it.

"Can't I stay here?" Rosapelo muttered, his gaze still fixed on his knees.

Law frowned. "Here?" he repeated. "In hospital? Of course you can't."

The boy remained silent for a while before shaking his head. "On Raftel," he whispered.

Law suppressed a sigh. "How would you manage on your own? You're still a child, you must have a guardian," he said patiently. "You have no family here, so you would go to an orphanage. Aren't you glad to have found some relatives... in-laws..." He got confused about the terms that weren't familiar to him. "Well... people connected to your family...?"

"I'd rather go to an orphanage," Rosapelo whispered.

"You're not being serious," Law said in disbelief. "You don't even know those people...? I heard they are really nice... well, in any case, they seem all right. I understand that you can feel... hmm, anxious about moving to the far end of the world, but wasn't it your dream to travel...? Why shouldn't you consider it as a good occasion to see a nice piece of the Grand Line?" he offered in an encouraging voice, although his words seemed pretty phoney even to himself.

One blue eye flashed from under the fringe, and then Rosapelo lowered his head again. "But it's... awfully far," he said in a strangled whisper that made Law's heart wrench.

"If you don't like it there, you can return one day."

Rosapelo glanced at him again. "I can return?" he repeated.

Law shrugged. "Sure you can. In four years, you're going to be an adult and be able to decide for yourself.

"Four years..." Rosapelo whispered thoughtful, before his head dropped again. "It's awfully long."

Law felt like saying, 'It's _just_ four years, it's going to pass in a blink,' but he bit his tongue. When one was a teenager, four years seemed like an eternity, so it would be no consolation at all. He had to motivate the boy with something else... if only he could calmly think about it... if only his heart wasn't pounding, and he didn't have a harassing thought all that just wasn't right. But he had to try. And then again and again. Until he did it.

"Pelo," he said in a serious voice, resting his elbows on the table and staring at Rosapelo's face, although in this position he could only see the tip of his nose. "I'm very sorry for what happened... I mean your mom's death. It's a tragedy that you'll probably never accept. I know that you don't want anyone else, for no-one can replace her, am I right? But no matter how we wish it, we can't bring her back. Children shouldn't lose parents, but when something so terrible did happen, they must be provided with carers. I understand well that you don't want to go to the strangers... to people you don't know and have never met. I understand that you'd rather stayed in the place you know instead of going to the far end of the Grand Line. It's here that you've grown up and lived for thirteen years. It's obvious you're attached to this land. But you have a chance to get a new home. Even if it won't replace the one on Vokzel, it will be a safe place for you in this difficult time. Those people already-" He hesitated, knowing that everything he'd say would be premature. "Those people already like you. If they hadn't, they wouldn't have made a decision to take you to their home. As far as I know, they didn't hesitated a single moment upon hearing you are all alone. Living with people who like you and want to take care of you is much better than going to an orphanage," he said with emphasis.

Rosapelo said nothing - he was sitting with his head down, pulling the straps of his hoodie - and Law suddenly wished Clione were here. Himself, he felt completely wrong person to explain such things. Above all, he lacked deep empathy that would enable him to put himself in the boy's shoes and approach the situation in another way than only logical. Because it was his tendency to approach any problem with logic that showed here. As there was no other option than moving in with the uncle's family - the late aunt's husband could be called that, right? - then the only thing to do was to accept it. Even if the boy considered such a change unacceptable, Law knew that any discussions with inevitable were pointless, and patting on the head wouldn't solve anything. It was the best to cut everything off quickly, that way it wouldn't hurt so much... although, at the same time, he _realised_ it wasn't an approach that Rosapelo needed now.

"Can't I really stay?" the boy asked again as if he hadn't heard a single word of Law's motivational speech.

Law felt he was getting angry, but refrained from showing it. It wasn't Rosapelo's fault that he didn't want to leave here. "No, Pelo," he said gently. "No-one can stay in hospital for ever. You recovered, so there's no need for you to be here. We must discharge you."

The boy's head snapped up, and Rosapelo looked him in the eye, his gaze so sharp that Law almost started. He hadn't expected to be given such a look, although he'd already known that the thirteen-year-old could stare very intensely.

"What about my fractures?" Rosapelo asked straight. "Am I going to leave even though..." His voice trembled, and his eyes moved to the side, but he kept talking, although his voice was lower now, "Though you still don't... we don't know what's wrong with me? Even though you said you would take care of it?"

Law felt as if he'd been dealt a blow in the stomach, and his first thought was it wasn't fair. Only words, 'You, supposedly the best doctor in the world...?' hadn't come, ones he'd unconsciously awaited. But was it really not fair?, he asked himself the next moment. Even if the boy used it only as an argument to have his will - and Law couldn't but was impressed by his fighting spirit, for he was of the opinion that a man should rather fight than give up - he was only telling the truth. For the last week - and, in fact, much longer, since the previous autumn already - Law had been harassed by the fact he couldn't explain what lied behind Rosapelo's affliction. Only that...

"Pelo, I examined you with the Ope Ope no Mi," he said calmly, removing his hands from the table back on his lap. "I examined your organism, every little part of it. I spent days looking for the cause of your fractures, carefully and meticulously. But I couldn't find a thing. From medical point of view, you're perfectly healthy," he said with emphasis to convince the boy... or, actually, he tried to convince himself. "The Ope Ope no Mi is never wrong. If there had been anything wrong with your body, I would have undoubtedly found it."

Rosapelo pressed his lips in a tigh line, and Law almost felt sorry for him and his failed argumentation. He knew that if the boy had really wanted to hurt him, he wouldn't have stopped at the simple fact of negative diagnostics... His heart was still racing, and he was far from being calm he appeared on the outside. Nevertheless, he knew that only patience and composure could be of any help now.

"Pelo, everything will be all right," he said as the silence prolonged. "You've recovered, got back on your feet and decided to live. Accept what life is giving you now. It's not so bad. I know you will be fine. You're a wise and strong kid and have goals to achieve. You should focus on those positive things, like that good people want to give you a home and take care of you in such a hard situation. You're surely to face more difficult times, but if there's someone to help you get through... someone to support you, then it's much better than being alone, believe me.

Behind the window pane, a gull flew, maybe in pursuit of an insect, giving a cry that could be heard inside, too. Rosapelo didn't even stir; he was still sitting on his chair, hunched, with his head down. Soft hair fell on his forehead and eyes, which probably suited him the best in these circumstances. Law thought distractedly that he should have used the Ope Ope no Mi to cut it, just like he used to with his own hair, but it hadn't occurred to him until now... while now it was all too late to make such offers.

He clenched his fists. He felt confused, and his only sharp thought was that he had to persuade Rosapelo into leaving Raftel. As for anything else, he had no idea what he should think or feel. He wanted to stay here, but he also wanted to run away. He wanted it was Clione talking to the boy, but on the other hand he was aware no-one else but he - who had spent much longer with Rosapelo than the chief psychiatrist - should be here. Also, he felt angry - at Rosapelo and at himself - for all that was so hard and he didn't even want it. He hadn't wanted such a violent change in his daily life, but it had already happened, so all regret was futile, he knew that well. Also, he felt sad, for over the time he'd grown accustomed to spending time with that boy, and despite his work being disrupted by their meetings, too. He was torn between the wish it had never happened and gratitude it had. He realised that in last two months he'd experienced much more emotions he'd had during the preceding thirteen years, although he still couldn't tell if it was good or bad, which frustrated him in addition to everything else. However, it seemed to him that when Rosapelo left Rafel, his life - Trafalgar Law's familiar and predictable life - would go back to normal.

He didn't need anything else, right?

Finally, the boy raised his head and looked him in the eye again, but this time his gaze wasn't as penetrating as before. "Law-san... Do you really want me to go with that... that woman and live with her?" he asked in a low voice, almost a whisper.

Law stared at him in silence. Did he want? He had no idea. Actually, the thought of Rosapelo leaving might evoke some opposition... but his feelings were of no importance here. Well, if he could use that to convince the boy there was no other option... since there was no other option...

"I do," he said and, for some reason, felt like a total scum.

Rosapelo's face contorted with some grimace, but Law didn't manage to see it, for the boy lowered his head again and hunched even more on his chair. Law thought that despite all tragedies he'd experienced, Rosapelo had never seemed so sad before. Yet, he didn't feel like thinking of that impression... certainly not now.

"Everything will be all right," he repeated his own words, but they sounded flat and false even to his own ears, not like something to convince another person. But there was nothing else he could say in this situation. "Everything will be all right, Pelo..."

* * *

Everything should be all right, yet it wasn't, at least not now. After their conversation on April Fool's Day, Rosapelo said he didn't want to see him for now... asked Law to give him 'some time'. It sounded very mature, and Law would've undoubtedly felt satisfied with such a sign of composure in his thirteen-year-old patient if he hadn't felt like a total bastard at the same time. To know that he forced Rosapelo to do something the boy didn't want himself - even if it was the only sensible solution - didn't fill him with joy. Sometimes he made himself feel angry - for being forced to deal with a kid who didn't know what was good for him - but he realised that emotion was fake.

He had no idea how long 'some time' meant. At first, he hoped it meant one day, two at the most. He'd got used to the boy's company and now, unable to see him, he felt something was missing. Then, however, as Rosapelo still refused to see him, Law realised it was even better. Even if the boy resented him - which, frankly, was perfectly comprehensible and deserved - it only made things easier. It would be easier to part if they first loosened that surprisingly tight bond that had formed between them. When one spent several hours daily with another person - and in a slightly different relation than purely occupational - they started to consider that other man's presence as a natural. But, in fact, the two of them were a patient and a doctor, and that always meant just a fleeting acquaintance. That was why he took advantage of the situation and didn't try to approach Rosapelo. When the time came - very soon - they would say each other goodbye, and the boy would leave to his new life, and Law would stay on Raftel, where he'd been for the last thirteen years.

A week went like that, and then harsh reality diverted his attention. As it had been over two months since the previous cataclysm already, a new one just had to happen... and it wasn't about Shachi, Penguin and Jean Bart's joint birthday party in Roger Bay that probably half of Raftel population attended and that ended in a serious brawl, only about a real, tragic and shocking natural disaster, one that no-one could have expected.

Disasters were predictable at least in regard to their type. Natural disasters were often conditioned by geographical position or climate. If one lived by the sea, they could count on storm or tsunami. If one lived in the mountains, avalanches, rockslides and mudflows should be remembered. In another places, violent torrential rains or fires caused by drought could happen. Earthquakes could occur anywhere in the regions of high seismic activity. In case of the human-made disasters, they included traffic, construction or industrial accidents, among other.

Almost every of them had happened here in the last thirteen years, with the Corazon Memorial Hospital rising to the challenge, aiding in the rescue operation and protecting human lives. Still, they had never experienced a _volcanic eruption_ \- not because there were no volcanoes here, only because they were considered extinct. If the late Admiral Sakazuki alias Akainu were still alive, one may have thought it was him trying to have his revenge against the Pirate King, whom he'd hated with all his might, but his calculation was slightly off and thus he triggered a neighbouring island instead of Raftel. That incident was so abnormal and horrific that Law couldn't think of it in any other way than absurd-abstract, otherwise he would go crazy.

When everything was over, he decided in his typical sarcastic manner that it was a pity Straw Hat wasn't there; after all, Luffy loved volcanoes and he certainly regretted having missed the show on Tihxel. However, during the eruption and right after it, Law was focused solely on removing the danger and limiting the number of victims to absolute minimum; it was what governed his actions. On April 10, when the afternoon just started, and a day seemed perfectly normal, a sudden explosion was to be heard. It reached even Raftel, almost one hundred miles away, and it was clearly audible through the soundproof windows of the canteen, where Law was eating lunch. Probably no-one realised what that sound meant, for - let's say it again - volcanic eruptions didn't use to happen in this region, and initially a military attack was suspected. People understood what it was about only when more or less hysterical messages from Tihxel started to come, along with the calls for help, although it must have taken a longer while to _grasp_ it, because the thought, 'No, it's impossible', was overwhelming.

Since it was a catastrophe of unprecedented proportions, threatening to destroy a population of a whole _island_ \- and affecting others, in the worst-case scenario - Law didn't hesitate a single moment to head out. He put aside the thought of providing medical help; now, it was all about the insane abilities of the Ope Ope no Mi - in other words, there was an occasion to play a superhero, although it was only later that he formed that phrase, too. With Straw Hat absent, he was the only person capable of _doing something_ quickly. He was considered one of the most powerful people in the world, and it obliged. As soon as he got to know what had happened and where, he grabbed Kikoku (fortunately, he kept his sword in his room, despite never having used it in years), jumped into a hospital submarine and sailed to Tihxel at top speed, trying not to think what he would see there. On his way, he ordered that a rescue team was formed - six ambulances - and followed him, but he strongly commanded that the personnel was allowed to act only when there was no direct danger.

He reached his destination after half an hour; all neighbouring islands lied on similar distance from Raftel. The scenery he found there would undoubtedly convince a more sensitive person that the end of the world had started. People in panic ran to the sea, away from the volcano situated in the very centre of the island, filling the air with screams almost as loud as the explosion itself. The skies were covered by ash that obscured sun and cast a deep shadow at the area. It seemed it was dusk already, while the noon had only passed; the temperature was unnaturally low, even though a layman would expect something else during a _volcanic eruption_. The ideally regular cone overlooking the island was ejecting ash at the height of many kilometres, with lightnings flashing in the rapidly enlarging cloud over its peak. Volcanic bombs, too, were being spewed from the inside to fall on the fields, forests, towns and coastal waters; they destroyed everything uncompromisingly, without choosing their victims. On the edge of the crater, the very first tongues of lava could be seen; under gravity, they started to move down, leaving only the scorched earth. Yet, before they reached the human settlements, people would die burnt and buried by the pyroclastic flow from the collapsed eruption column.

Law activated his Devil Fruit the moment he landed on the land, covering the whole island and the whole eruption. (He didn't spare a single thought to the fact of shortening his life again, and by a few years at once; it didn't matter at all). He knew he had probably less than twenty minutes at his disposal, so it was the time limit he had to deal with the problem within. He wasn't able to stop the eruption itself - only the user of the Magu Magu no Mi could have any chances at that - but he could make its lethal product, all that was still hanging in the air, never reach the people below. He couldn't force the ejected material back into the volcano - since the eruption was still going on, it would be as effective as putting one's finger in the rubber hose and trying to stop pressurised water from flowing out - he had to teleport it somewhere, and 'somewhere' meant nothing else than 'to the sea'. But it was a risky operation that threatened to cause a huge tsunami, and a responsible person couldn't replace one danger with another. If he did, it would undoubtedly affect all neighbouring islands and claim much more victims than the eruption itself. Unless...

He pushed ROOM inside Tihxel to examine the magma chamber. He found it very soon, at the depth of slightly over ten kilometres. Like he expected, it was as vast as the island itself, which made his task easier. He shamblesed people that were already in the water back on the shore and created a 'protective wall' along the coast. Then, with numerous precise cuts of Kikoku, he opened long and pretty wide slits in the underwater ground that would become the side pipes of the volcano. He tried to do it as fast as he could in order to prevent the violent changes in pressure that increased the risk of tsunami, but he was lucky. Magma started to willingly fill those new vents and then, according to the gravity, flow on the seabed, moving to the lower parts of the ocean and away from the island. It resulted in the steam explosions, visible on the surface, or just bubbling of water, but most of all, it caused a sudden drop of pressure in the crater and stopped the overland eruption. The hazardous material, however, was still hanging over people's heads - millions of tons of volcanic ash of temperature nearing thousand Celsius degrees - and it had to be evacuated from here.

Law waited two minutes and when he made sure that the activity in the volcanic chamber calmed down - the flow of magma to the sea had done its job - he started to realise his previous idea that was forcing the spewed pyroclastic material back inside the crater. He could do nothing about the gases emitted, except for moving them in the higher parts of the atmosphere where they quickly cooled and dispersed horizontally with the air currents, mixing with the normal content. He hoped he wouldn't run out of strength. For now, he was holding well, but he knew that using the Ope Ope no Mi in a more intensive manner than medical depleted his energy supplies very fast - in the worst case, he would lose consciousness in fifteen minutes - while closing the volcano couldn't be far from the top of the scale of effort, to say nothing of keeping a ROOM as wide as a whole island. Yet, he'd rather not think of what would happen if the action of the Ope Ope no Mi suddenly stopped... besides, thinking was pointless; he should only focus on acting.

He had no idea how long it took - his gaze became dim, his ears were humming, and his breathing was even quicker - but finally the plume of ash vanished from over the volcanic cone and it became brighter again. Lava, flowing on the slopes, had been moved back to the crater - it resembled a bit throwing the earthworms to the well while they tried to get out of it and obstinately crawled over the edge of the curb - and the seawater extinguished all fires. Underwater, magma kept flowing into the ocean freely and there was no need to use the more difficult path through the volcano. The temperature of the coastal waters raised rapidly, but if Law had to chose between the human and fish populations, then there was no real choice at all.

He felt dizzy, and his body was getting weak. His strength was reaching its limit, and he realised he would lose consciousness in a few seconds. He returned to the earth - until now, he'd worked mid-air - and said to the nearest man in a perfectly calm voice, "I'm Trafalgar Law. I stopped the eruption, there should be no danger now. Pass it to the others and take care of the wounded. The rescue team from Raftel is on its way, receive them and let them work with your medical personnel. I would like to help, too, but unfortunately I'm not in a shape."

Then he sat down when he was standing and rested his back against something. Hoping to wake up again - he vaguely remembered he had something very important to do - he deactivated the Ope Ope no Mi and fell into darkness.

* * *

When he opened his eyes, his first thought was he'd dreamed about a volcanic eruption. Then he remembered that he never had dreams and the eruption had happened indeed... although it still seemed unreal and almost impossible to grasp. Well, it had occurred, and, judging from the fact he was still alive, no further disaster had followed. He blinked several times. The ceiling above was dim and unfamiliar, yet it brought to mind something well known. Maybe it was some smell, too, or some specific sound - suffice it to say he realised he was in the hospital. He guessed he was still on Tihxel, in its main town. A prick in his elbow told him he had been given a drip.

"You've come to, Doctor!" he heard a woman's voice, and when he turned his head, he saw a girl in a nurse's outfit sitting nearby. "Do you feel all right?"

"Pretty good, for a man who used all his strength fighting a volcano," he said with a crooked smile. "I waked up, that's what matters," he added with his typical irony.

The nurse seemed both delighted and moved. She smiled, although her eyes were glistening. "You saved us all... and I can only say 'Thank you'... Please, wait a moment here, I'm going to inform others you've regained consciousness, Doctor," saying that, she rose from the stool and left the room hurriedly.

Not even half a minute passed when Bepo appeared in the door. "Now you wanted to play a superhero," the mink said instead of a greeting, coming closer. "Not that I know what exactly happened, since every patient had their own version of the events..."

Law grinned at him. "I always wanted to do something like they did in the Germa comics," he replied, sitting up and putting his legs on the floor, before removing the drip.

Bepo rolled his eyes. "Everything okay?" he asked, sitting down next to him. "You slept for a day and a half."

"A day and a half?!" Law wouldn't be more surprised if the mink had said he decided to quit being a doctor and start a dance career. On the other hand... "Well, it was quite a... demanding job," he muttered.

"It's good you waked up," Bepo said in a neutral voice.

"Yeah."

They sat in silence for a moment, and then Law's stomach reminded about its existence with a loud grumble.

"Can you get up? We'll go eat something," the mink said.

"Sure. I'd love to," Law replied eagerly, standing up. He didn't even feel dizzy, although he'd unconsciously expected it.

"The drip won't feed you, after all."

"By the way, Bepo..." Law turned to his friend as they walked down the corridor. "You put me _in the hospital?_" he asked with a fake menace.

The mink shrugged. "It's a proper place for an unconscious person," he said. "And I wanted to keep an eye on you."

Law looked around. For a post-disaster time, the hospital was a stunningly quiet place. Well, it was night, too.

"Then, it's evening of the eleventh?" he made sure.

"Actually, it's already the twelfth," Bepo said, looking at his watch. "A quarter past midnight."

"Tell me what happened after I zonked out," Law asked. "Many fatalities?"

"Several dozen, mostly killed by the volcanic bombs," the mink informed crisply. "Injured go in hundreds, but fortunately the hospital was spared with all personnel. In addition, both shifts were in place when it all happened. We could start emergency treatment immediately."

"More of us came?"

"Sure, mostly from surgery and orthopaedics, but in fact every ward sent someone. It's normal."

"Even the Seven?"

"What a stupid question. They always send a relief team. What, you're missing Clione already?" Bepo asked with a taunt he rarely showed.

"No. I wanted to know if Clione got hysterical upon hearing I was here."

The look the mink gave him made Law almost blush. He didn't know himself where that remark had come from.

"It was a joke. And not very wise, too," he mumbled, pulling his head inside his shoulders.

"You say it," Bepo agreed. "Let's assume it just slipped after awakening. I don't believe I could ever see our dear psychiatrist getting hysterical... not even because of you," he added critically before looking at him askance. "By the way... You're not going to pick him up for being a superhero now, right...? I'm sure even he would find it an overkill."

"Very funny..." Law snorted. "I never picked him up."

Distractedly, he thought he hoped Bepo would never hear about how strange form the already strange relation of the director of the Corazon Memorial Hospital and the head of psychiatry had assumed during his absence. Although... was there anything in this world that would surprise the mink? Law asked himself the next moment. His friend, firm as earth itself and powerful like a mountain, had seen such things that most people wouldn't even think of. It was a good thing to have someone like that by his side.

The canteen was working even in the middle of the night, probably because of the state of emergency. Law got hot soup, a fish and rice bake, and lots of green tea. As they ate, they continued their talk about the damages on Tihxel and surrounding waters. Much to Law's relief, his manipulations hadn't caused a dangerous tsunami. Other islands had already provided food and sanitary aid; they also sent building materials and human resources to remove the damage and take the burden off the locals. The temperature of the ocean that had rapidly grown because of the magma outpour, had already dropped pretty much. Soon, new schools of fish and shellfish would come, unless the waters hadn't been contaminated with any toxic gases from the magma. Because of that risk, fish that had boiled couldn't be consumed, unless someone had examined the water. But it was no longer Law's worry.

"Any patients requiring the Ope Ope no Mi?"

"You better don't use your Devil Fruit anymore," the mink replied in a decisive voice, which was predictable.

"I'm all right," Law objected. "I slept a lot and recovered fully, I really did. Since I'm already here, I'd like to do something as a doctor."

"Yeah, taming a volcano was just a side job," Bepo sneered. "If you really must, there are several people in a critical state."

"Then, take me to them," Law said, finishing his tea and rising.

The mink sighed and got up as well. "One of these days you're going to work yourself to death," he stated.

"And what's wrong with that?"

Bepo raised one paw and patted him on the head. "I don't want to hear such things. You should live long and happily."

"Like in a fairy tale."

"Exactly."

On their way to the first patient, Law said, "In the morning, I'm returning to Raftel. I hope to slip away unnoticed, before any commotion happens. I have enough work in my place, I wasted a day and a half...!" he declared with a fake indignation that made Bepo roll his eyes. "What about you?"

"I think they won't need me here either, so we can slip away together, Mr Superhero," the mink replied.

Law smiled wryly. He still hadn't really comprehended what he'd done. If someone had told him he would fight the volcanoes, and succeed in it, too, he would consider it a rubbish. So far, his greatest feat had been cutting a mountain in a half, but it wasn't an achievement he was pride of as he'd clearly overdone it. But this time... Well, he'd managed to save a bunch of people... and the volcano had survived in its intact form, so maybe he could be satisfied...?

"I'm glad you're all right," Bepo said, and his words filled Law with warmth.

"I still have something to do," he muttered in reply, although he talked more to himself.

Parting with Rosapelo, that was to happen as soon as the day after tomorrow, would surely be easier than stopping the volcanic eruption.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

By some miracle, Law and Bepo really managed to depart from Tihxel unnoticed. Everyone had probably assumed it wouldn't occur to them to leave before dawn... or, which was even more likely, that time most people were sleeping, and thus their departure didn't attract any attention. Moreover, Law used ROOM to transport Bepo and himself to the dock where the submarines of the Corazon Memorial Hospital were moored, so everything happened in just a few minutes; no-one had a chance to stop them.

Law didn't want to become a centre of attention, which would undoubtedly happened had he stayed on Tihxel. It was enough that, as the user of the Ope Ope no Mi, he was already in the spotlight and sometimes even got headlines in the global newspapers. Besides, he'd lost a day and a half of work in his own hospital and had to make up for it. Unfortunately, his Devil Fruit, despite being able to bend the limits of space, couldn't do similar wonders with time, and Law had had to accept that sad truth long ago.

Before they left, Law had a look at the volcano overlooking the island, or even rising from its very centre. The day was only lighting up, but the regular cone was already pretty visible. It was staying there nonchalant, and nothing about it indicated that just two days before it had brought mortal peril upon several tens of thousands people. Probably, it had been considered extinct - if it had been even regarded as a volcano, in the first place - and thus no-one had expected it to erupt. Well, Law had shoved all content of its stomach back to its throat, and it seemed the danger was over, at least for now. He hoped some volcanologists would come here to examine the seismic activity of the area and assess if the eruption could repeat any time soon. First of all, however, he counted on the authorities to make a sensible evacuation and emergency plans, for only that could save people from certain doom. The volcano was situated in the middle of the island, and the island's diameter was some thirty kilometres. A possible eruption endangered _all_ citizens. They couldn't assume that Trafalgar Law would always be available, even though he hardly ever left the region. 'Let's hope we won't see each other again,' he bid his goodbye to the mountain, name of which he didn't even know, and lowered his gaze at the towns and villages on its slopes, growing in number as the shore get closer.

He came to the conclusion the luck had really been on their side this time. First, he'd arrived on Tihxel before the fall of the pyroclastic flow that would mean the destruction of nature, buildings and population within just a few minutes. Second, he'd managed to reach the magma chamber and cause the pressure drop in it, which had stopped the eruption. Third, he'd done all that before his strength had run out, and he survived, on top of that... If only one of those elements had failed, Tihxel would have gone down in history, and Law probably would, too. Yes, beyond doubt they had been spared on this occasion. However, Law was a realist and didn't mean to assume that the next eruption would go as smoothly; that was why a professional assessment was needed, especially in regard to possible next eruption. He knew that it generally favoured survival - although wasn't necessarily good for mental health - to treat _every_ volcano as active and potentially dangerous, and doing so in regard to a volcano that had just recently erupted was the only reasonable course of action.

He looked around the nearest vicinity. Numerous fires had left scars in the main city, too, but he could also see repairs that had started already. Bepo had told him that amongst those who'd come to help was Franky, who supervised the reconstruction of the damaged areas. Inside the chest of the cyborg, who had once been the shipwright of the Pirate King and had built the famous Thousand Sunny - it was that ship that had allowed the Straw Hats to sail all the way to Raftel and find the One Piece - a great human heart was beating, and he was prone to offering his help to anyone in need. Law guessed that the locals would get their share of his fantastic architectural sense and receive at least one building that would have created controversy in different circumstances... Franky wouldn't miss the occasion to experiment with form and materials, but thanks to that the world was more colourful and cheerful. For Law it was all the same, because, even though he was knowledgeable about many things, including volcanoes, architecture wasn't one of them. In any case, he could depart from Tihxel, knowing that the island and its citizens were in good hands.

Having arrived in the hospital, Law told his secretary he was unavailable to anyone, especially the media, and threw himself into work. It was funny to see those looks in the corridors and wards, of both patients and the personnel, those expressions of confusion and disbelief. Some would glance at the newspaper if it was at hand and then stare at the hospital director again, as if they weren't sure what to believe. Law was sure that the information about him having stopped the volcanic eruption on the neighbouring island had hit at least local papers. Probably, people weren't certain if it was true, since Trafalgar Law was working like nothing at happened, and his coat was perfectly white, too. He certainly didn't look like someone who'd fought with the volcano only two days earlier, and besides it wasn't wise to believe the press without restrains anyway. However, no-one was brave enough to ask him straight about it, so people were left alone with their suspicions.

Of course such cases like Ikkaku, Shachi or Penguin believed in absolutely everything that was told or written about Law. They'd shared over twenty years of common history; when they'd still been the Heart Pirates, Law would show them his capabilities more than once or twice. They would believe even if the papers wrote that Trafalgar Law had managed to make the earth spin in the opposite direction... To tell the truth, they'd always thought too much of him, he decided with slight embarrassment and started to treat another patient.

Since he was really busy - he even gave up his lunch - he didn't find time to visit Rosapelo... at least that was what he excused himself with. In fact, he sill didn't feel well after having treated the boy like he had the other day. He feared that Rosapelo would beg him again to be able to stay on Raftel, and he wanted to avoid it. He wasn't accustomed to people begging him with the tears in their eyes. He usually gave others what they wanted - and only as a doctor - and then parted with them, remotely. The thirteen-year-old, however, didn't want treatment or medicine, only... Yeah, what exactly? That he could stay in the area, instead of departing to the other end of the world? Law had no idea why the boy had appealed to him... That was, he did know: he was the person Rosapelo had spent the most time with. But that thing wasn't up to him. He was of the opinion that the boy would be better off with the family... even the foster one. The foster families could be... good.

In any case, Rosapelo would leave Raftel and the region the day after tomorrow, when his new guardian would come for him. He and Law would say goodbye... maybe not forever? When the boy became an adult, he could return to his homeland if he wished so. Law would gladly learn if the cause of his falls and fractures were found and if he grown out of that affliction. (Deep inside, he suspected the answer to both question was negative, but he could at least imagine the opposite). He wondered what kind of a man Rosapelo would turn into. It could be that Law wouldn't even recognise him at first; contrary to the girls, the boys could change pretty much in just a few years... His face would lose all childhood features, and maybe he would be a tall, muscular fellow. Well, if anything, Law should recognise him by those unusually blue eyes...

Yet, he asked himself if Rosapelo would ever want to meet him again. After all, he'd never taken back his 'I don't want to see you for now', so maybe he'd taken offence at him for good...? He surely felt Law had betrayed his trust, and in that case why would he ever want to bother with him again? Law tried to put himself in his shoes, but - again! - he could only remember the scenes from his own past, unwanted, that showed him something entirely different. He remembered perfectly well that during those last weeks together he would bear anything and forgive anything in order to stay with Cora-san... But that one and the current situation differed like day and night, mostly because Cora-san had been the best man in the world, and Law was a total git, who only gave others reasons to hate him...

Well, in any case, the day after tomorrow he would say goodbye and Rosapelo would leave. Even if they hadn't seen each other since the previous Monday, Law owed him at least that goodbye. He wasn't sentimental, but he didn't want to part on bad terms. Excluding his former crewmates and current co-workers, Rosapelo was the man he'd spent the most of his recent time with, and very intensively, in a way. One could say that two months were but a short moment when compared with the decades, but it didn't change the fact that, thanks to his contacts with the boy, over that time Law had experienced much more emotions he had in the previous fifteen years or so...

Ringing of Den Den Mushi broke his reverie. It was late evening, and he was sitting in his office over the paperwork, its amount twice as normal... and he still had quite much, because he'd spent the last half an hour wondering about his parting with Rosapelo, he noticed sarcastically. The Den Den Mushi wouldn't go silent; it must have been someone possessing his direct number, and such people very few. He put the apparatus closer and answered. It was Sengoku-san calling.

"Is it true that you stopped the volcanic eruption and saved the local island from the destruction?" the retired admiral asked as soon as the greeting was over; he didn't use to beat around the bush. "I've just received today's paper, and they write about it right on the Page 2. 'Trafalgar Law does impossible again and defeats a volcano. Is there any limit to his abilities?' such is a headline."

Out of habit, Law wanted to say the papers always exaggerated... but in this case he just couldn't. He didn't remember anyone having done it before, except for the user of the Magu Magu no Mi. "True," he muttered.

"How did you do it? Even though the story covers half of the page, its author does his best to avoid the concretes, so after several minutes of reading we know more or less as much as the title told us plus, of course, some details about the island that I can as well read in the encyclopaedia."

"It's probably because I haven't given an exclusive interview," Law replied with a crooked smile. "No, I didn't even give a chance to any journalist to ask for it," he corrected immediately.

"That's very like you," Sengoku said and added, "I would have done the same in your place. Well, how did you do it?"

Briefly, Law referred to him the events he'd participated in on Tihxel. He spoke without any emotional contact, as if he was just giving a report on things that didn't concern him. It still hadn't sunk in what he'd done, and he wasn't sure if it ever would. The reason for that was probably the fact that the whole operation had taken between fifteen and thirty minutes and he'd lost consciousness right afterwards, so all that hadn't managed to anchor in his mind, in his memory.

When he was done, Sengoku said with a sneer, "I wonder what will be the next, but in fact I'd rather not imagine it. Can't you sit in your hospital instead of playing a superhero?" he asked with a slight reproach. "That Pirate King of yours couldn't take care of it? He's supposed to be the most powerful man in the world...?"

"He couldn't, since he was absent. But it was even better, for, knowing him, he would've decided to suppress the volcano with sheer force, leading to a total cataclysm. There was no-one else to remedy the situation, Sengoku-san."

"Fine, fine. The important thing is that you're all right...?" that statement sounded more like a question.

"Of course I'm all right," Law assured him. "I've been back on Raftel since this morning, and I almost managed to forget about all that, I have so much work..."

"Oh, they surely won't let you forget about it, since the citizens decided to rename the volcano to Mount Trafalgar. Though, according to the paper... let me have a look... Here it is, some people propose the name of Trafalgar's Peak or Trafalgar's Tip, so it seems they haven't made their minds yet. They didn't invite you for the ceremony?"

It took a longer while before Law could speak again. He couldn't quite remember the last time any information had thrown him off so much. No, it had to be a stupid joke... "Are you serious?" he asked faintly, driving away an absurd yet nagging thought... hope that at least they wouldn't decide on Trafalgar's Tip, for that sounded somewhat... obscene.

"Very serious," the old admiral confirmed enthusiastically. "Just think of it, you're going to get a monument when still alive, and the one to last for centuries, on top of it. Isn't it great?"

"Sengoku-san, I can't resist the impression that you make fun of me."

"Well, I'd rather laugh because of you than cry, you naughty boy. I can't grasp it why you keep doing things that may give me a heart-attack... while I should already get accustomed..." the former supreme commander of the Navy muttered in the receiver. "Are you really all right? Am I correct that using the Ope Ope no Mi to such thing must have cost you pretty much of your strength...?"

"I'm all right, Sengoku-san," Law repeated, having that funny feeling in his chest whenever the old man called him a 'naughty boy'. "I had enough rest, and I'm like new now," he added, hoping that the old admiral didn't know that such an intense use of the Ope Ope no Mi shortened its user's lifespan. "But... Mount Trafalgar...?"

"Sounds splendid, I say."

"It's an overkill..."

"Maybe they want to communicate to the volcano that it was tamed and belongs to you. And that you will appear every time to stop it, so it'd better be quiet and cause to troubles."

"That sounded very... romantic."

"Probably because of the book I finished last night... a collection of travel stories by a certain explorer, and I probably picked up his ornate style," Sengoku explained eagerly.

"Back to taming the volcano..." Law decided to ignore the literary questions. "By any chance, don't you know if the Magu Magu no Mi returned to the circulation? Unlike me, you're up to date with the newest information," he added with the slightest note of sneer.

"Sadly, I have no knowledge of that."

"That's a pity, it could come in handy here... Well, we must hope that if it appears again, it will go to a person who will make a good use of it, becomes a volcanologist for example. Although... if you have the Magu Magu no Mi, you don't really need to know anything about the volcanoes," Law declared in a critical manner.

"But I understand the idea, so let's hope it will be really so," Sengoku agreed without referring to his successor for the seat of the supreme commander of the Navy, late Sakazuki, who was probably the best (or worst, depending on the context) remembered user of the Magu Magu no Mi in history. "Okay, I won't disturb you anymore, you have lot of work. Take care of yourself. I hope you take off sometimes."

"I do," Law assured him. "I have a holiday the next week," he informed, although that thought was followed by another: he could forgo the holiday after he'd just slept for over a day on Tihxel. Besides, it was pretty hard to imagine taking the day off when Rosapelo was no longer here... It seemed utterly pointless.

"That's good," Sengoku said contentedly, unaware of his dilemma. "Good night!"

"Senoku-san...?" Law called hurriedly before the man managed to hang up.

"Yes?"

Law remained silent. He wanted to say something about partings and farewells... maybe inquire about similar experience or ask for advice... but in the end he gave up, for he didn't know what answer he expected, himself.

"Thanks for calling," he said, and the old admiral, even if he sensed his hesitation, didn't ask about the reason for it. Law was grateful for that. Probably. "Have a nice day, Sengoku-san," he added and hung up.

He put the Den Den Mushi to the edge of the desk and occupied himself with the papers again. Yet, he couldn't focus on work and, after a while of struggle, he leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. Even though conversation with Sengoku-san had filled him with warmth, just like always, it had also made him notice the weight in his chest. He realised some part of him didn't really want to part with Rosapelo. They hadn't seen each other for almost two weeks - and Law's life had started to resemble the one he'd led before meeting the boy - and yet the thought of parting for good, at least for several years, wasn't pleasant. Actually, it seemed... not right.

Law knew what was the reason for that: he'd got attached to the boy, and it filled him with very mixing emotions. Since he'd turned ten, he'd kept people at bay, for he knew that otherwise he would quickly grow attached to them, which he didn't want. Attachment came with a risk of loss and suffering, and those Law had experienced too much already. But if, despite that, someone did become attached, they would start to yearn for the other person's company and consider their absence abnormal... and that was what was happening to him now.

Some part of him strongly denied it and ordered to end that relationship as soon as possible, before it was too late. Another part tried to remind him that Rosapelo was the first man in two and half decades who'd managed to evoke deeper emotions in him and to make him get involved, to get him to talk about his past and to create mutual understanding. Law knew he would listen to that former voice - the voice of his reason - that had always protected him... but, at the same time, he made a decision to visit the boy tomorrow. Maybe it was the last chance to talk with him. Taking into consideration the fact that Rosapelo had become someone special to him, if only for a moment, he deserved a better treatment. Yes, Law would visit him tomorrow. He risked only being told the boy didn't want to see him.

Despite that decision - it was past two when he finally finished all papers and went to bed - he couldn't fall asleep. For some reason, even telling himself that it was probably the last night with such troubles, wouldn't help. For some reason, realising that made him feel worse.

* * *

The next day, there were even more perplexed looks cast at him, obviously because of the article in the global newspaper, but Law didn't bother his head about it. He performed the morning procedures, first on the wards and then in the operating theatre, and during a lunch break he finally had a moment to pop in psychiatry. He'd spent part of the night and the whole morning (that was, between the patients) trying to find the proper words to talk with Rosapelo, but in the end he hadn't made any sensible plan of their conversation. Well, he just had to count on his own intuition... but that conclusion provoked crazy bursts of laughter in his rational mind, that mocked him mercilessly. 'So, April 13 will be the day when Trafalgar D. Water Law decided to bet everything on his intuition?'

Upon entering the boy's room, he had the first shock. He returned to the corridor and checked the number; the room was every mean the same, only... Rosapelo wasn't there, as weren't his things, too. Clothes, books, pictures and toiletries had vanished. Only the familiar clock on the wall, hung by Law himself, confirmed it was the place where the thirteen-year-old patient had spent two months and a half and where Law had been a regular visitor most of that period. The bed was done, and chlorine could be smelled in the air. The room was awaiting the next patient.

With his heart beating fast and without caring about anything, Law teleported right to Clione's office. Had he found there anyone else, even a patient, he probably would've shamblesed them to the corridor.

"Where's Rosapelo?," he asked at once, approaching the psychiatrist's desk.

Upon seeing him, Clione put down the papers he'd been browsing through. He looked at him for a moment and then answered calmly, clasping his hands. "I discharged him."

"When?"

"Two hours ago."

Law kept staring at him stupefied, trying to digest what he'd heard. Yet, it was difficult, as his heart was pounding inside his chest and the ears were humming. He wanted to ask thousand questions, but at the same time he had no idea what exactly he should ask, for 'Why didn't I know about it?!' ringing in his head seemed a total misunderstanding.

"Why?" he uttered finally.

"His new guardian came and took him, just like it was arranged."

Law felt he was losing his footing and couldn't tell up from down. It seemed strange; only three days ago, when he'd happened to be next to the erupting volcano, he'd been perfectly calm and had known exactly what to do. Now he couldn't grasp his own thoughts. Actually, there was no thought to be caught, as his mind had gone completely blank. No, there was one.

Rosapelo had left?

"But... He was to leave tomorrow...?" he said faintly. "In two weeks? Two weeks is tomorrow."

Clione gave him a look that even with the best will in the world couldn't be interpreted any other way than pitying. "Law, only you could decide that 'two weeks' would mean exactly 'fourteen days' and nothing else," he replied. - No-one said that. His aunt... I mean, his aunt's sister-in-law arrived in Raftel yesterday to stay in Roger Bay. She visited Rosapelo right after the journey, and this morning she came for him.

Law was gaping at him as if he weren't able to comprehend his speech. A nasty feeling weighed in his chest. Rosapelo had left? Today? Without making him know? Without...

"He left without... seeing me?" he whispered and gulped.

Clione kept observing him. "Maybe he decided you didn't want to see him," he said carefully, and there was hardly any emotion in his voice.

"Bullshit, he couldn't have thought it...!" Law replied in anger, but then it vanished, and he grew anxious that the psychiatrist could be right, after all. "How might... how may have he thought something like that...?" he asked dully.

Clione's steel blue eyes were still penetrating him. "Maybe he felt disappointed," he said in that cool, perfectly neutral voice of him, "after all those assurances that you wouldn't even reject him... that he could stay here as long as he needed..."

Law clenched his fists. "But I... I was talking about _medical_ need...? That he could stay here until he recovered...?"

The psychiatrist shrugged, but his fingers with painted nails seemed to clench even tighter. "You presume that a child will differentiate?" he said. "Especially child in his situation? You probably meant well, but it's likely that Rosapalo decided you couldn't stand him and were sick of him already..."

Law winced angrily. "Of course I wasn't!" he spewed. "You can't think it?"

"I don't, but it's Rosapelo we're talking about," Clione replied, accenting every word.

Law stared at him for a moment - a straightened figure behind the desk, looking back at him with focused and solemn expression - and then fell on the nearest chair, as if he'd lost his strength. He closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to the eyelids. He tried to calm down after that sudden shock, but even if his heart slowed a bit, it was only like masking his agitation, like momentarily covering the flame with a new portion of wood. He moved his hands to his lips and, again, looked at the psychiatrist, who, it seemed, hadn't even twitched all that time, only turned his head in order to maintain the eye contact.

"I weren't sick of him. Rather, it's the opposite," Law said in the end, running one hand through his hair before putting it on his lap. "And now he's gone... I wanted to talk with him... But maybe it's the best this way," he muttered, aware that his speech wasn't very coherent. "It's the best this way..."

It was the best this way. They'd parted painlessly, without emotions, without tears and regrets. Without having made amends after that difficult meeting, in discord... but it didn't matter anymore. Time and distance used to heal all wounds and obscured the memories, leaving only good things. Rosapelo had had to leave, it was inevitable, and this way Law had been spared the parting he'd feared so much. If only he hadn't felt now his mouth was filled with ash, then everything would be great. But he would manage. He'd dealt with so many difficulties so far and always emerged victorious. Maybe he'd got some new scars, but as long as he lived, everything was fine. That heavy feeling in his chest would ease off soon. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. It was the best this way.

He glanced at Clione, maybe expecting him to support that thought, but the psychiatrist still seemed to be sitting on a bomb. His painted eyes were wide open, and their gaze was almost burning. His firm lips were tight together, and his fingers were clasped so tight as if he didn't mean to ever loosen them again. Not a single muscle twitched in his face. It seemed he was barely breathing.

"Law," he finally spoke, and this time there was the slightest hint of hesitation in his voice. "I think you're not being honest with yourself."

Law knitted his brows. He could have expected it. "I've no idea what you're talking about," he said without thinking, a familiar pat answer, although he was aware it was like asking a psychoanalysis with that particular interlocutor.

And the psychoanalysis would undoubtedly follow. For a moment, Clione seemed to struggle inside and then sighed. Nervously, he brushed the hair from his forehead - that gesture made his crystal earrings tremble - and pressed his hands together again, penetrating Law with his gaze once more.

"Law, what is that boy to you?" he asked.

"My patient," Law answered right away.

"And that is why you're so upset now? Because your patient didn't say goodbye before leaving the hospital? Didn't thank you for treatment?"

"Don't be a fool. Of course not!"

"Then why?"

"Because I got attached to him, damn it! What's wrong with that?"

Clione shook his head - this time his earrings tinkled quietly - but something flashed in his eyes. "Absolutely nothing," he replied. "I'm glad you said it."

"I treated him for two months," Law added. "I think it's normal?"

The psychiatrist sighed again. "Now you're talking rubbish again."

"What rubbish?!" Law called. "Clione, could you speak with me _normally?_ Or is it impossible to you?!"

He realised he was venting his irritation on the psychiatrist - he was still having the impression he would totally lose it any moment - but he couldn't stop, unfair as it was.

Clione, however, didn't care about his outburst, just like always. "You said you got attached to him," he said patiently. "Is it only about a doctor getting attached to a patient?"

Law opened his mouth... and then closed it again. 'I don't know, I never treated anyone for two months before,' he wanted to say, but he suspected it wasn't the right answer. His heart was still racing in his chest, and it only seemed to accelerate, and every beat deepened the heavy feeling he couldn't ignore, no matter how he wanted. Repeating the word, 'It's the best this way,' didn't help.

Clione was still piercing him with his eyes, making Law feel even more confused. 'Is it only about a doctor getting attached to a patient?' Law repeated the psychiatrist's question in his mind. What else could it be about? In Law's life, there was no other relationship than medical... but for some reason that conclusion didn't satisfy him; it only banged around his mind, bouncing off various memories, all of them concerning the last two months he'd spent with Rosapelo. He couldn't stop it.

Rosapelo brought from the ice. Rosapelo in stupor. Rosapelo making first eye contact. Rosapelo eating. Rosapelo speaking. Rosapelo on his mother's funeral. Rosapelo in the All Baratie. Rosapelo on a walk. Rosapelo with his arm broken. Rosapelo wishing to stay on Raftel. Rosapelo. Rosapelo. Rosapelo.

Finally, he felt dizzy, like he were falling down. He leaned forward, put his elbows on his knees and rested his forehead on the clasped hands, but his mind was still resonating with the boy's name, and he couldn't silence it.

"Say something, Clione." he choked. "Say something or I'll go crazy," he repeated, pressing his eyes shut until he saw only darkness.

Screeching of chair on the floor and clicking of heels told him the psychiatrist got up from his desk and went to the window. "You never go halfway, Law," he said in a voice that was now ringing with some irritation.

Law raised his face and frowned. What the hell could that mean?

"You know well that exceptions happen in medicine, but they always only prove the rule," Clione went on, showing his back. "It's completely uncommon that someone recovers from a psychotic depression as soon as Rosapelo, especially when it features catatonia."

'Maybe that's because it wasn't necessarily a psychotic depression, at least not entirely,' Law thought.

"But we both know that the diagnosis is of a little importance here, even if it's exactly that I wrote in his epicrisis today," the head of psychiatry department said. "Important is that the moment you started to participate in his treatment, Rosapelo started to recover physically and psychologically. But it wouldn't have happened if you hadn't _engaged_ so much in it. If you hadn't _attuned_ to him. If you hadn't _opened_ to him like you did. That time, as I was observing the contact you had, I could see it, Law. I could see you were fully concentrated on that boy. Before you say that it's how any doctor should be around their patients, let me add that your approach to Rosapelo quickly went well beyond medicine. I was there; I could see it with my own eyes. When with that boy, you turned into almost another person. Never before had I seen you to be so genuine, so expressive, and not only verbally but also in your gestures and reactions. So united and unconditionally devoted. And that was what he needed: someone to stay with him... someone to support him without reservation. You. And he responded to it, from the very beginning, because it was _you_. He attuned to you and reacted only to you, hearing your voice even in the deepest darkness and despair, and following it. He started to come to you. He left that psychosis and that depression guided by your words and all non-verbal message. It wouldn't have happened if you hadn't been honest, but you were, beyond doubt. Maybe it was remorse, maybe some need, maybe some memory... Suffice it to say that you decided to cross the line you always drew between yourself and others, and go over to his side. Just like I said, you never go halfway. If you get involved into something, then you do it without any limits, be it treatment or a bond with another person. You give everything, you give all yourself and don't think about consequences, not for a moment. I saw that in the presence of a man you trust you could laugh, joke and banter, and show emotions. You could shorten physical distance. It was the first time I saw you like that... until you told me the reason why, and that finally let me understand many things about you."

Law listened to that with a feeling he was drowning in a chaos of emotions. He tried to pick up the most important content from Clione's speech, but he had lost the ability to understand his thoughts, beliefs and wishes. "But it sounds as if I-" he started and stopped.

Clione turned from the window in a swift move. "Isn't it that you're scared to admit that you care?" he asked directly, but there wasn't really any question to his words, only full confidence.

Law pressed his lips, feeling a cold shiver running down his spine. That coldness helped him gather his thoughts. "I was only ten when I lost everything I cared about. When I managed to get something to care about again, I soon lost that too," he replied without thinking as if he'd had that answer ready. Well, he had. It had been his tenet for almost three decades. "You know that. You can't blame me," he added... and it was only then he realised it wasn't an answer to the psychiatrist's question.

Or maybe it was.

"And that is why now you want to lose it _consciously_?" the psychiatrist continued, giving him a serious look, and his voice was devoid of emotions again... but those emotions seemed to be boiling right under the words. "To _push_ it away of your own volition, in order to never be betrayed again...? You're going to take no risk... and lose the chance for happiness that this time could _last?_ I don't believe, Law, you don't understand what I mean."

Law stared at him from his chair. Cliomne was standing by the window with his hands on the sill behind his back and didn't get his eyes off him, eyes that were always capable of anchoring Law in reality. His words, 'I don't believe you don't understand what I mean', kept ringing in Law's eyes, just like the previous ones. The silence fell, but he couldn't resist the impression it was only the calm before the storm.

Lose? Care?

His heart wrenched with a sudden pain, and the air seemed to vanish. He got up and turned away, then froze again, unsure what he should do. His reason screamed to him, warning and threatening, as that hot emotion welled up in his chest, painful but also strangely soothing and purifying. Telling him that finally everything was like it should be. He clenched his fists and pressed his lips and eyelids tight, wondering if he'd already gone mad... or, contrary, for the first time in his life was thinking clearly.

"Law, do you really hate yourself so much that you don't allow yourself a single though about being happy?" Clione's voice pushed through the humming in his head. "Even if long ago you buried a human inside you, leaving only a perfect doctor in his place, that man is still alive. I saw him. I'm seeing him now. Rosapelo brought him from that depth, just like you brought Rosapelo from his depth. Why do you want to discard your real self again, along with the person who secures your humanity... and wants to stay by your side more than anything?"

Law felt his heart lept again and recognised that feeling as a sudden hope. Rosapelo wanted to stay with him? Of course, the boy didn't want to leave Raftel, he'd said it straight and conveyed with the whole spectrum of expressions, too. But...

"But I thought he... he didn't want to be discharged 'cause... Well, 'cause he will have to start his new life," he whispered.

"That too, probably," the psychiatrist agreed with him. "Law, don't you think it's not me you should talk about it with?"

Law turned around and focused his eyes on him. "I wasn't talking to you," he grunted.

"I see, you were just thinking out loud," Clione decided and shook his head. "But it still doesn't change the fact that I'm not the right person to talk about it with."

"But..."

Law was standing indecisive, trying to come to some conclusions and failing terribly. His mind was filled with hundreds of thoughts, fragments of plans, shreds of decisions, but he couldn't catch anything. What he knew, though, was that terrible feeling of gnawing in his chest had vanished like it was never coming back. Rosapelo wanted to stay with him?

Finally, Clione broke away from the window and came closer, clasping his hands again - now Law could see he'd done so in order to stop them from trembling. He stopped right before him and raised his head to look Law in the eye.

"Law, don't hurt yourself any more. Be honest with yourself," he asked and, for the first time during this conversation, he smiled, although it was quite a faint smile. "You must admit it yourself, I won't put the right words in your mouth. I only tell you... that I'd give much to have you open before me like you did before that boy. But now I know it's impossible." He smiled wider, and Law thought he hadn't seen many things as sad as that smile. "Now, go. If you want it, you can still catch him. They were to visit Vokzel first, they're probably still in Ro-"

"If I want it, I'll find him everywhere," Law interrupted him with the very first note of decision that grew stronger with every passing second. "I'll find him," he repeated firmly, tasting these words.

Then he activated the Ope Ope no Mi and teleported to Roger Bay, emptying his mind from everything except the goal he had to... he _would_ achieve.

It was raining lightly, extracting that particular smell of the earth, the smell of spring. Law realised that over the last weeks he'd become much more sensitive to the nature, starting to notice things he hadn't paid attention to earlier and ignored as unimportant. Before, he would only notice day turning into night and night turning into day or passing times of year, sometimes he would heard rustle of the sea and cries of the gulls. Now he was aware of different shades of light and colours, touch of wind and rain on his skin, countless scents and sounds that could trigger emotions in him, as if he'd become part of the world, as if a bridge between him and his surroundings had appeared unnoticed, opening his senses to nature and people.

The same could be said about his feelings. Once he could only feel basic daily satisfaction, steady and devoid of any fluctuation, and the only emotions he'd sometimes had were suffering, despair and regret. But in the last months, he'd experienced much more: joy, sorrow, sense of victory and defeat, fear and relief, and even real _happiness_. He could genuinely laugh and cry. All that had been natural to him long ago, in childhood, and that he'd thought he'd later buried forever, was back now, as if he realised it anew. It was Rosapelo who had caused it - like saying 'You're a human, you've only forgotten' - and the very thought of the boy filled with rapture and deepen that hot feeling in his chest, making his heart burst.

But Law knew his heart was strong. Now, it was beating with power of someone who'd finally come to his senses and decided to fight for what was important to him. No, who had _understood_ what was important to him, in the first place. That power gave him courage, told him that even if pain awaited him, it was worth risking it. It reminded him that pain had never managed to defeat him, even if it had left him scarred and terribly twisted. It reminded what he'd believed that time, over quarter of century ago: that suffering meant he was still alive and a human. Now, he felt like he'd been born anew and could do absolutely anything, and this feeling got stronger with every passing minute.

He didn't wonder if Rosapelo still wanted to stay here. He didn't think of what his new guardian might say. What mattered now was that he had to catch the boy, apologise to him and _ask_. Just like he'd said: he would find him everywhere. He narrowed ROOM to Roger Bay and searched for that particular heartbeat. So many times he'd used the Ope Ope no Mi to listen to the boy's pulse that he'd remembered it. He would recognise it in any time and place, even in the crowd of hundreds, thousands people. Screams of the gulls or lap of the waves, ringing of the bell or fluttering of the sails couldn't drown it out.

There! On the ship that was departing - a Vokzel ferry at 12 PM - as the clock of the town hall finished to strike noon. Law teleported on the deck, attracting the looks of surprise and anxiety from the passengers, but he didn't care about them in the slightest. Rosapelo, standing by the board, turned around and saw him, and Law felt as if the avalanche of emotions could sweep him off his feet, right here right now. He wouldn't tear his eyes of the boy, registering that a middle-aged woman standing next to Rosapelo turned around as well. He assumed she was the guardian. Without a single word, he shamblesed the three of them back ashore.

Rosapelo didn't even blink, but the woman seemed properly confused. Law glanced at her. She had fair, curly hair and brown eyes with a delicate make-up. Her face was rather round, as was her whole figure. She was wearing grey coat and had a red scarf tied around her neck. She seemed nice, but in this particular moment Law couldn't consider her an ally... quite a contrary.

"Who are-" she started, and then her eyes grew wider as she recognised him, for most people knew his face, especially in set with a white coat. "Doctor Trafalgar Law," she said, squeezing tighter a bag in her hand. She looked around to see the ship sailing away. "What has-"

"I must talk to Pelo. I decided you should be present, so I couldn't leave you there," he explained briefly.

"I see," she replied. She turned around again to look at the bay and then at the surrounding buildings. She had to regain composure and understand she'd suddenly returned to the shore, even if it defied the logic she probably held to. At least, she hadn't panicked. "I understand that you want to say goodbye...?" she said slightly perplexed, but Law had already pushed her out of his consciousness, with his eyes focused solely on the boy.

Rosapelo was also looking only at him; his intensely blue eyes captured him, making everything else disappear. There was no emotion on his face, it was solemn, closed and wary, just like so many times before. Law clenched his fists, then loosened them, and then - never breaking the eye contact - covered the distance in just two steps and put his hands on the boy's shoulders. He leaned down, moving his face so close that he could clearly see the boy's pupils narrow and widen according to his pulse.

"Pelo, I apologise for having treated you the way I did," he said quietly, seriously, with emphasis. "I'm sorry I pushed you away. I meant well, but I think I hurt you even more. I'm sorry, Pelo."

The boy blinked, but it was the only motion he afforded. He was still silent and only looking at Law, and nothing changed in his expression. One could have the impression he hadn't heard him at all, but Law knew he had. Rosapelo could always hear him. It just wasn't enough, and he would be naive thinking he could convince the boy that way.

"I don't want you to leave here," he declared, and now the teenager's eyes grew wider. "I made you understand it was the best thing to do, but now... I realised it... it would be a mistake," he confessed.

"I was told that Rosapelo was healthy and didn't need any treatment," the woman spoke again; Law had already forgotten about her. He turned his head and cast her an annoying look. "Ah, I didn't introduce myself, I'm Lise Ma-"

"I know who you are," he interrupted her, straightening his back and glaring at her. "If you keep disturbing me, I'll send you back aboard the ship, so please be so nice and shut up."

The woman went speechless. She pressed her lips together and only stared at him with her brown eyes, blinking slowly. Her cheeks turned red, and her chest started to move faster. Maybe she was enraged, but she didn't speak anymore nonetheless.

"It's true that Pelo no longer needs a treatment in our hospital," Law continued, his sight returning to the boy... drawn by those blue eyes that were now looking at him as if they tried to absorb him. "It is _I_ who needs him," he said in a softer voice, and his fingers clasped tight on the boy's shoulder. "Pelo, I need you, so stay. Stay with me," he asked straight, for there was no use keeping it vague. It was like Clione had said: he never went halfway. "I'm sorry I rejected you," he repeated, and his throat clenched, so he had to gulp in order to keep talking. "But now I know I can't imagine you leave here."

Rosapelo blinked several times and bit his lips. It seemed the mask on his face started to crack. He lowered his eyes. "Really?" he whispered.

Law nodded eagerly. "Really," he confirmed with confidence. "If only you wish-"

Rosapelo took a step back, wrenching from his clasp, and abruptly turned back. He clenched his fists. Law felt anxious but told himself the boy was only surprised and agitated... right?

"Pelo...?"

"I thought you hated me," he heard a choked whisper.

"I told you I would never hate you."

"I know!" Rosapelo hunched. "And yet... yet..."

"And yet what I said and what I did didn't match," Law finished for him, his heart heavy with remorse. "Pelo, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry..."

He clenched his fists making the nails dig into the insides of his palms. He didn't know what to say in order to make the boy understand he was really sorry. He'd apologised to him so many times, and so many times he'd told himself never again he would do anything to apologise for, and yet it just kept happening. He had to assure him... convince him it was the last time...! "Pelo..." he started.

'Oh, shut up and let him speak!' he heard a voice in his head, a voice sounding strangely familiar... Thus, he closed his mouth and said no more.

Rosapelo was still standing turned away from him, hunching, with his head down, so Law could see only brown hair on the nape of his neck, damp of rain. The boy wouldn't loosen his fists and seemed furious. Law wondered if he would ever hear anything from him, but then a quit voice reached him, and it sounded as if the boy forced himself to speak.

"I knew it all the time... that when you promised that... you meant that I could stay here until I recovered..." he said. "And yet I imagined that... that... And I don't even know why, I just didn't want to stop hearing your voice, never... But then you told me to leave... with strangers. It was awful... and I felt like I didn't mean anything to you. So I didn't want to see you again and... although I really... But I knew I was so stupid... and that it was all my fault... And that you wouldn't come back. And then you went to Tihxel... and I was worried, I was so scared I almost went crazy... but you didn't even come to say you were all right... So I believed that you didn't want to have anything to do with me." He turned away and looked at him, his eyes full of tears. "And now you're telling me you don't want me to go...? What should I believe, Law-san...?"

Law listened to that chaotic speech, feeling his heart would fall into pieces any moment. Compassion almost crushed him. He'd hurt that boy much more he'd ever thought. He'd caused him much more pain he could've ever imagined. He'd done so with his apparent will to do a right thing, but in reality with his thoughtlessness, egoism and fear. He lowered his eyes, for the feeling of guilt was too strong and he could no longer look at the image of suffering he'd created himself.

"I'm sorry," he whispered and bit his lips.

"It's my fault..." Rosapelo repeated.

Law's head snapped up. "It's not your fault!" he called without thinking. "Pelo, it's high time that you stopped blaming yourself for everything, especially this... this situation. Out of us two, it was I who acted wrong, and it's so like me, for I never think about the feelings of other people. But it's not any excuse." He took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair before forcing himself to the next words, "It's no wonder you can't trust me again..."

Rosapelo shook his head violently, and the two tears tore off his eyelashes. In an impatient gesture, he wiped his face with his sleeve and stared at him again. "It's not that I can't..." he choked. "I just..."

Law felt his heart fall into his stomach. "You don't want to see me anymore?" he asked dully. "You're sick of me and want that we part forever?"

Rosapelo's eyes grew wide, and he froze altogether, letting his arms fall, and Law felt a sudden cold filling him as he waited for his answer. In fact, he felt like turning on his heel and running away so that he didn't hear it: the words of rejection. He realised it was how Rosapelo must have felt during their conversation from two weeks ago. Yes, it was much easier to reject than being rejected...

But that was what he deserved. He'd come here flying, imagining the bright future, believing he had a chance for real joy. He had naively thought everything would be just fine, but of course it couldn't be. It was but a short dream, shorter than an afternoon nap... one to vanish the very moment he opened his eyes.

He was looking at Rosapelo and never before had he felt so pathetic, for he realised he could find real happiness, and yet he'd ruined it... He wanted to be with the boy, for his presence seemed the only obvious thing under the sun and his absence seemed the greatest tragedy. He would do everything for him, even die. He wanted to support him and help him in every possible way. He wanted to laugh and cry together with him, comfort him in sorrow and share the moments of joy. He never wanted to see him unhappy and was ready to fight all obstacles on his path. He would wipe out every enemy trying to hurt him.

He felt his eyes become wet, and then that wetness rolled over his cheeks when he understood _why_ the thought of living without Rosapelo seemed so meaningless.

He loved him.

He'd known it all along - he'd got attached to that boy, and in his case attachment meant love, for he never went halfway - he only couldn't admit it. The reasons were of no importance, because now it was too late anyway. His reason should mock him now - here Trafalgar Law had managed to love someone again after twenty-six years, only to lose them right away, a new record, by no means - but it was silent.

Reason. He tried to grasp it, that final straw he could always count on. Was there any chance to stop Rosapelo from leaving if he told him the truth? Or should he say goodbye now, go back to his solitude and bury the dream of happiness forever? But he couldn't utter a word, was paralysed. Maybe the shock from realising his own feelings was too strong and had taken all power...

"I think we're experiencing some crisis in communication," a voice broke in the world where only he and Rosapelo were. "Or, rather, you two are."

Law twitched and turned his head towards the source of that voice, and the boy did the same. His aunt... that was, his aunt's sister-in-law was standing in the same place as before - Law became aware of the surrounding world again - and no longer seemed enraged, rather exasperated. She put the bag on the pavement and folded her arms, shifting her gaze between the two of them.

"Dr Law... Is it okay if I call you that?" she made sure. "Dr Law, if I understood what you said correctly... You wish that Rosapelo doesn't leave with me, only stay on Raftel... with you, right?"

Law nodded.

The woman looked at the boy. "And you, Rosapelo... wish the very same thing, right?" she asked.

The teenager nodded.

His would-be guardian sighed and lifted the bag from the street. "Couldn't you settle it earlier?" she complained. "Why did I have to come here, on this far end of the world? There's nothing to sightsee here."

"I'll refund all costs of your travel," Law said automatically, although it seemed to him it was someone else speaking. No, he was amazed he could speak normally, to begin with. "And I'll arrange a stay in the luxury entertainment centre New Piece as a compensation for your trouble."

He was looking at Rosapelo as if he were seeing him for the first time - but if it were so, his heart wouldn't pound inside his chest like this, and he wouldn't have this sweet feeling that seemed to nullify all bitterness. Inside, he was all sore, and he thought he should act cautiously, for it wasn't easy to believe in happiness after one almost lost it, and willingly, too... but hope emerged from behind the clouds again and cast a faint light at his thoughts.

"Pelo... do you want to stay with me?" he asked. He had to know it for sure.

"Yes," the boy replied quietly and sniffed, but wouldn't lower his eyes.

"Well, I'm sure that you can give him a decent living, Doctor," Mrs Lise said. "Only try to not overwork yourself. Then, I'd better return to the hotel. I must inform my husband about this sudden change of plans. What time is in his place? I think it's before midnight yet, he should be still awake. My, the boys will be upset about it, they were so excited to get a little brother... But I think it will be the best this way; Rosapelo won't need to leave his homeland. I would be scared to death if I were to move to the other end of the world..."

Law nodded mechanically. "Wait for me in the hotel, Madame. I'll arrange everything."

The woman seemed to say more, but in the end she gave up. She shook her head and left, clicking her shoes on the pavement. Only later Law came to the conclusion she must have been much more clever a person he'd initially thought; she probably hadn't wished to be sent someplace else in a manner defying the nature again.

Law was left with Rosapelo. The people hurriedly passed by, paying them no attention. The gulls were flying over their heads with the familiar scream. The waves were splashing against the embankment. Another ship was calling to the port. Law realised the rain had stopped and the sun started to show from behind the thin layer of clouds.

Rosapelo was standing in the very same spot, just three steps away. His arms were falling along his trunk, and his shoulders were hunched. His hair, damp after the rain, would soon dry up, just like the traces of tears on his face. Now he was no longer crying, although he seemed sad and tired, but his eyes were gleaming intensively as if it was them his all life force had focused in.

'I want you to smile,' Law thought... but had no courage to say it aloud, so they kept staying in silence like the two fools they were, indeed... well, at least he was. He took a deep breath, realising that only today he'd needed two people to help him stay on the path to happiness. From now on, he should take care of it on his own; he wasn't a kid.

He raised his hands. They were trembling like a doctor's hand should never tremble, but this moment he wasn't a doctor, only an ordinary man. He walked to Rosapelo and embraced him, pressing the boy's head to his chest and burying his face in his hair that was smelling of spring rain. He felt calm, as if he'd returned home from a long journey - so long he couldn't remember when it had started - and brought the whole world with him. He didn't want to ever let go of him.

Timidly, Rosapelo's hands touched his back, making his life perfect.

"Can I really stay?" the boy muttered in his shirt.

"You must," Law replied.

"Why?"

"Because..." Could he tell it now? No, he wasn't ready. But he had another answer to that question, almost as good and equally true. "Because you make me happy," he said and smiled with the corners of his lips.

Rosapelo raised his head and looked him in the eye. He said nothing only nodded before hiding his face on Law's chest again and holding him tighter.

Law decided to be an optimist and believe that he'd found happiness he would be able to keep this time.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

When he got out of the deepest emotion, Law said, 'We must talk,' and decided to move them to the All Baratie, where he always had a private box at his disposal... no that he'd used it much so far. Rosapelo's question, 'What about your work?', a proof of clear thinking, if anything else, reminded him that, indeed, he should occupy himself with so-called professional things now. Belated as it was at half past twelve, he called his secretary and requested that she informed the doctors that the consultation session was cancelled today. However, he learned that Clione had already taken care of it, therefore he announced that the new admissions would start with a delay and he couldn't yet say how big. Then he hung up before Elle snapped out of astonishment and began inquiring about the cause of such a revolutionary deviation from the schedule.

Now nothing could prevent him from taking Rosapelo to the restaurant, which he then did. Like always, Sanji himself waited on them, but Law ordered only two daily sets and asked that they weren't disturbed for the rest of their visit. He wasn't hungry, but it was a matter of decency to order a meal in a restaurant, and he hadn't eaten lunch anyway, as hadn't Rosapelo. However, when Sanji brought the dishes and left, drawing the curtains to contribute to their privacy, an awkward silence fell... and then food appeared to be a good thing to occupy oneself with and slowly start talking.

It was somewhat chaotic conversation that Law had never planned nor assumed... that he hadn't even imagined to ever have. In addition, the two of them were too overwhelmed by what had happened in order to act casually; it was hard to even look at each other, so in the beginning the talk consisted mostly of fumbled and abstract questions and similar replies. It was Law who talked and asked more, while Rosapelo was the one to rather listen and answer. Law tried to sound matter-of-factedly and confidently, although inside he was shocked and almost scared to death. He realised he was doing something he hadn't been prepared for, yet it wouldn't even occur to him to back out. Rosapelo's voice was almost a whisper, and the boy was sitting with his eyes fixed on his plate and his hair obscuring half of his face. Every now and then, a prolonged silence fell, and Law tried to frantically think of something to say, and when he managed to resume the topic or start a new thread, Rosapelo immediately responded to his words, apparently grateful for breaking that oppressive silence. Law suspected that, had anyone seen them now, they would undoubtedly consider that scene ludicrous and had to fight the urge to break in and offer their help. He remembered Mrs Lise, who, not even an hour ago, had managed to avert a cataclysm and make the world normal again, and only with a few words...

But as the time passed, the words started to come easier, fears diminished, and nervousness vanished, as all that their relationship had become over the last two months started to fill the air again. Finally, Rosapelo cast him a few shy looks from under his too long fringe, and Law managed to send him a few very hesitant but fully sincere smiles. Even though this conversation - and the whole situation - filled him with a million of conflicting emotions, one remained unchanged: desire to stay with the boy and resolve to realise it. Now that he was sitting here and looking at that little frame opposite to him, his heart clenched with emotion, compassion and great joy... and, at the same time, he was in cold sweat at the thought that he'd almost lost him. Clione deserved a dinner indeed, as it was solely thanks to him that Law had understood what he'd wanted and needed in his life...

In the end, during slightly over three hours of conversation, they succeeded in creating quite a solid plan for their future together, that had already started. It all began from yet another reasonable question by Rosapelo, "Law-san, actually... Where do you live?"

"Actually, I live in the hospital," Law answered truthfully, but for some reason it filled him with shame, so he rushed to add, "But, of course, I'm going to find us a normal place to live. What do you think of Roger Bay? 'Cause I understand you want to stay on Raftel? You don't want to go back on Vokzel?"

Rosapelo nodded. Roger Bay was fine, and he had nothing against it; he was used to living in a harbour city, and besides... "My mom is here," he said softly. "And it can't be far from your work."

"And you will go to school there," Law supplied, wondering distractedly about finding a flat. Well, he came to a quick conclusion, there was nothing impossible for Trafalgar Law, especially on Raftel. Actually, there was even nothing _difficult_ when someone was considered to be a common good for humanity... or was someone akin to lord and master in the neighbourhood. "We'll bring your things from Vokzel... everything you wish to take to... to your new home," he ensured and then, on impulse, he added, "I'll go with you."

In three days was the sixteenth, the compulsory free day of the director of the Corazon Memorial Director, so he had a whole day at his disposal; he could take care of the transfer and all related matters. He imagined it wouldn't be easy for the boy to return to the place that he'd lived in for years with his mother when she was gone now, but he had to visit it once again... to say goodbye to it, at least. Law decided to postpone until the vague future the question of what to do with Mrs Irma's flat, now belonging to the boy.

"Until then you're going to stay in the hospital, all right?" he suggested. "You'll take my room, I can use my office. Unless you'd rather stay in the hotel...?"

Rosapelo shook his head and then glanced at him from under the fringe. "Can I really stay... with you?" he asked quietly.

Law's chest ached. "Yes," he replied simply... and then something made him ask, "And do you really want to stay with me?"

This time, Rosapelo nodded with confidence. Neither of them asked why, but Law suspected they would ask it many times yet. Himself, he had no idea why it was Rosapelo who'd managed to find the way to his heart and turn his world upside down... just as he didn't know why it was him that the boy had chosen. He still was perplexed by it, but now wasn't the time to dwell on it.

"Then, Roger Bay," he said cheerfully. "I'll find us a pleasant flat. You're going to go to school... maybe you'll even land in the same class with the Pirate King's son," he added with a smile, realising that Rosapelo and Ace were of the same age. "That is, if their mother gave the boys her permission to attend the school... Maybe you'll find some nice extracurricular activities...? Or-"

"Law-san..." Rosapelo interrupted him, staring at his empty plate; something clearly weighed on him. "Law-san... Really... will I now bother you?"

Law frowned. "Bother me? Why? Why would you bother me?"

"You have a lot of work and-"

"To hell with work!" Law blurted and was praised (or reprimanded) with Rosapelo's astonished look when the boy raised his head and looked him straight in the eye. "I mean... Pelo, my work isn't the most important thing in the world," he rushed to explain... and then realised _he had really said that._

But that was what he thought, indeed. When there was something more important at stake, everything else fell into the background; at least, it should be so. A real man should be able to abort his mission, no matter how lofty or serious it was, if his heart told him so.

"But you're the most... the best doctor in the world," Rosapelo weakly tried to protest. "I don't want that you... because of me-"

Law shook his head. "Pelo, I made a decision. I want to make a home with you, and I'm perfectly serious about it," he said in a decisive voice, but then anxiety overcame him. "Or maybe... you don't want to live with me...?"

Now Rosapelo looked at him with clear reproach. "I do," he said softly. "I really want it."

"That's good, I'm glad," Law muttered and didn't show how relieved he felt.

He could expect that disagreement and conflict were inevitable whenever the interests and opinions of two people were in question. Law had never wished for disagreement and conflict... so he'd preferred to avoid any other relations than professional. Well, Rosapelo did seem a very agreeable person, but Law suspected that the boy wouldn't have the same opinion on every single thing nor would he always do as Law wished. Law had to be prepared for that... to be able to cope with it. One thing he was sure of: he didn't plan to force the boy to anything, just as he'd never intended to impose his will on him.

For now, he was looking forward to living together. Since they'd already decided that Roger Bay would be fine... He tried to imagine their life - in some sunny, cosy flat with a bay view and a balcony with the gulls flying over it - but that bright vision was quickly blurred by more mundane matters.

"But... I think we'll need to hire a housekeeper," he said hesitantly. "Someone to cook, clean and so on..."

"I can clean," Rosapelo offered, and Law felt touched. "But I can't really cook... I can only prepare sandwiches for breakfast," he admitted in a lower voice. "And cook an omelette or fry an egg."

'That's bad, for I don't eat sandwiches,' Law would said in every other situation, but this time it was out of question. "Omelette and eggs for breakfast sound good. As for the rest... Don't worry about it, we'll think of something," he decided lightly before adding with a smile, "But thanks for cleaning. I really appreciate it."

Rosapelo nodded, but something clearly was troubling him as he said, "If I were a girl, like my mom wanted, I'd have known how to coo."

"Your mom wanted you to be a girl?" Law asked before he managed to bite his tongue.

"Well, I have such a girly name..." the boy muttered and lowered his head so that the hair obscured his face again.

"Pelo, one's name is the last thing to draw such conclusions from," Law stated. "If I'm right, the female form of your name is... Rosabel...? That is, if those two names are even related, in the first place," he added. Rosapelo didn't seem consoled, though, so Law wondered frantically about another argument to support his hypothesis. "In fact... maybe you didn't know that, but letter O in the end indicates male gender beyond any doubt."

Rosapelo stared at him, and this time there was some gratitude in his eyes. "Letter O in the end indicates male gender?" he repeated shyly.

"Absolutely. In some languages, that ending is _reserved_ for men," Law replied immediately, although it was something he'd just made up, having remembered how the Straw Hats used to call him: Torao.

But it was one of those moments when he would do anything and say anything - no matter how stupid, exaggerated or incorrect - in order to comfort someone who needed it. Before, it wouldn't have even occurred to him to act this way, but in the last two months he'd learned it and quickly reached a perfection. He could still remember that long ago Cora-san would try to raise his spirit at all cost, distract him from sorrow, fear or despair, without caring about his own pride or self-respect, having not stopped even at a harmless lie. And even though Rosapelo's despondency resulted from something objectively trivial, it was a big thing for himself, and Law had to accept it.

"Such a name suggests a strong man," he kept talking, and the boy seemed to listen to him with obvious hope. "For example Bepo, my friend from the emergency unit, or Marco from orthopaedics. I'd say those two belong to the strongest people in the world. Or Zoro, the greatest swordsman that had ever lived. Or Sabo, the Prime Minister in the World Government, I don't think there's anyone as powerful as him. And I used to know a certain king who could destroy a castle with just one punch, and his name was Elizabello... It's very similar to your name, isn't it? It could make one think of a woman, and yet he was a big guy. I can say many examples like that, and have you ever heard of any girl with a name ending with O?" he asked.

Slowly, Rosapelo shook his head, and Law hoped that Clione would never ask the boy to address him 'Clio', which he sometimes did. Maybe he should make the psychiatrist aware of this matter...

"Besides... if your mom had wanted to you to be a girl, she would've undoubtedly brought you up like one...?" he guessed. "I heard about such cases," he said in a serious voice and nodded like a wise man. "While you're one hundred percent guy."

"Yeah... but if she'd brought me up like a girl, we wouldn't have had the cooking problem now," Rosapelo pointed out and seemed dejected again.

Law gaped at him, perplexed, and then snorted. "I think you think too much, Pelo," he said cheerfully and laughed again. "Decide which one would you rather be. It's all the same to me, I'll conform. Thanks to our psychiatrist friend I'm pretty liberal to men who consider themselves as women... But, for the sake of this conversation, I've never heard that his mom had brought him up as a girl. As far as I remember, ha fancied to become a woman as an adult already... when we were over with the piracy."

He drove away a sudden yet intrusive thought: that Clione could keep house for them. He suspected that the head psychiatrist would be more than happy to do so... but for Law it was some ten years too early... and that conclusion disturbed him to such an extent that he concentrated on the situation at hand, deciding to forget all about Clione for the next few hours.

In the meantime, Rosapelo nodded pensive and then focused his gaze on him. "I'd like to be of some use," he said with emphasis. "I don't want to... abuse your kindness, Law-san. I already owe you so much I don't even know... when I could repay it... and it's not right..."

His words surprised Law, who needed a moment in order to be able to reply, for his throat clenched with emotion. "Pelo, Pelo, what should I do make you stop thinking that? I'm not doing it because of pity, I just..." He paused and shook his head. "You don't need to be grateful to me for anything... even less feel obliged. It's not like we do business here or exchange favours... but it's no charity either. It's just... Just as much as you want to stay with me, I want to stay with you. Isn't it enough?"

Rosapelo lowered his head, so that only the tip of his nose could be seen from under his brown hair. He nodded.

"Besides... you've already offered to do cleaning. I think it's a big thing, really," Law went on, and this time he managed to smile.

"I'll vacuum, do laundry and wash windows," Rosapelo mumbled. "And everything else."

"I guess once in a while won't hurt," Law said merrily without asking if the boy had used to help his mother with the chores. "But I really wish that you spend your time as you please. Don't hesitate to ask me what you want. There are few things that I can't give you... arrange for you. You only have to usk. Books, clothes, I'll get you anything..."

Rosapelo shook his head. "I don't need that," he replied softly. "I just want to... to stay. Everything else doesn't matter."

And Law asked himself - for he didn't have courage to ask the boy... and didn't even have voice to say it - why _he_. He wasn't the best person in the world, had much more faults than virtues, and there were many people that Rosapelo would be better off with, that was what his reason and self-esteem told him. But now Law no longer planned to give him to anyone. The sight of the hunched figure across the table filled him with warmth... even heat that radiated from his heart to all parts of his body, like it was being carried by blood. Now it was hard to believe that once he could despise or hate that boy, although he remembered he had, and it still could made him feel guilty. Once again, he promised himself to never again said anything that could hurt him; this very moment something like this seemed completely impossible and infeasible, anyway. This very moment he felt so attuned to Rosapelo as if the boy were his extension, his part.

Never before had he felt that way towards another person. In his adult life, not even once had he felt the urge to embrace and hug someone close, and now it'd seemed so natural. And once he'd held Rosapelo in his arms - crossing the last barrier between the two of them, which led only to unity - he'd known he would never want to let go of him. He wanted to make him feel safe, certain and never alone. He wanted to give him strength and protect him from any harm, and never part with him. He could still remember that magical power Cora-san's arms had had: they could drive away any menace, creating the illusion that no evil, not even death could reach little Trafalgar Law. And even if he wasn't Cora-san, he wanted to pass to Rosapelo at least some of those things, for every child needed them, especially a lonely, despairing child that had lost everything important...

He focused on the present again. "In any case, I want you to know that I'll take care of you and address all your needs," he declared. "You don't need to worry about the future. I'm going to support your choices and help you as much as you want me to." 'And I'll do everything to remedy those falls and fractures of yours,' he added in his mind.

Rosapelo listened in silence.

"In four years you're going to be an adult," Law kept talking. "You're free to choose your way of life, but you'll always have my support. But looking too far in the future is quite pointless," he pointed out. "Even if time flies..."

The thought of parting with Rosapelo as soon as four years filled him with reluctance and protest... but then he told himself that going from one extreme to another was overacting. Apparently, it was his tendency to 'never go halfway' speaking again, he decided resignedly. Well, there was nothing he could do about the time flowing... so maybe he should rather look forward to spending _at least_ four years with the boy, right?

"Law-san... I don't deserve it," Rosapelo whispered with his eyes down.

"I'm going to smack you in your head if you don't stop that," Law said, displeased. "Do you really consider me as someone who regards the others in such categories? Who wants to associate with the others only because of their merit or usefulness?"

"No," Rosapelo denied, shaking his head.

"I hope so!" Law replied in a faked menacing voice. "Besides... Be a man, Pelo. Stick to your decisions. You wanted to stay with me, so stop whining like a girl and don't imagine that your choice was wrong, after all."

Rosapelo put one elbow on a table and covered his face with his hand. "I'm so stupid..." he muttered. "But... I'm happy. I just can't believe... that you let me... that I can stay..."

"You can stay as long as you want," Law said lightly, although his throat was clenching, and thus his next words came softer, "And I hope that you will stay as long as possible."

Rosapelo nodded, still covering his face. "I thought you hated me," he repeated his words from before, the words that pierced Law's heart. "You told me to leave... And you didn't return. And I knew that I brought it upon myself. That I'm terrible and no-one... and you wouldn't want to see me. And it all felt so pointless. I didn't want to go with Lise-san... But I promised you to never do anything to myself. And maybe I really believed I'd be able to come back in four years and... I hoped that maybe that time..." Ha paused and only swallowed in silence. "Law-san... Am I really good enough?"

Law reached over the table - his hand was trembling, but Rosapelo couldn't see it - and put it on the boy's head. "I could ask you the same, Pelo," he whispered, for his voice failed him. "Thanks for wanting to stay with me."

Rosapelo raised his gaze - his blue eyes were full of tears - and gave him a look of astonishment and disbelief... and maybe even a question, 'Are you stupid or what?' He couldn't know that an adult man could thing so poorly of himself that he wished even a kid to accept him.

They stared at each other for a moment until Rosapelo finally sniffed. "Law-san... Can I... go over to your side?" he asked through tears. "Just this once..."

Law moved on his seat to make a place for him. "Come."

Rosapelo came, and Law embraced him and pressed to himself as if he didn't want to ever let go of him. He leaned back and closed his eyes. Words, 'I didn't want you to hate me,' resonated in his mind, and it could be the very first time that he thought he _understood_ that Cora-san could have felt that way. Law had never managed to grasp it... or maybe he hadn't been ready for that. Even the conversation with Sengoku-san, making him aware of Donquixote Rosinante's past, hadn't convinced him. His saviour might have felt such a despicable man that he'd cared about what the kid in his care might think of him...? In his eyes Cora-san was someone larger than a human, seemed a powerful angel - after all, he was one of the Celestial Dragons, whom some considered gods - and maybe that was why Law had found it so hard to see any weakness in him...

Now he knew it wasn't a weakness but a human nature. When you loved someone, things like power, abilities or status lost any significance, vanished from thought. The man wanted only to be accepted... wanted to be _good enough_, even if the other person was a kid two or three times younger... and above all, he didn't want to be hated.

'I'm sorry, Cora-san,' he said in his thought. 'I'm sorry I let you believe that I hated you until the very end.'

"I'm sorry, Pelo," he said aloud, although his voice was still but a whisper. "I should've done something else. I should've realised what I wanted... and what was important much earlier."

Rosapelo shook his head in his embrace. "But you weren't too late," he mumbled.

All of the sudden, Law felt like laughing. "I wasn't," he agreed in a more cheerful tone. "You're right, this time I made it..."

* * *

After that, things got somewhat complicated.

Since Law had enough work, he found himself a temporary assistant to tend to his private matters. He didn't want to put a burden on anyone in the hospital, although it was certain that a line of people eager to make him a favour would appear in no time, if only he asked it. He appointed Ed, a little brother of his secretary working in the town as a jack of all trades and, according to Elle, could be trusted. Law left him with the task of finding a good flat in Roger Bay, and within two days, too, for the plan was to move there quickly. Ed made a good impression on him as he didn't ask any stupid questions nor wondered aloud about such ideas of the hospital director, only got down to work right away.

Soon, Law learned that buying a flat in the biggest city of Raftel bordered on a miraculous or was simply impossible. Due to the constant demographic growth, Roger Bay suffered from a chronic lack of available flats; new people kept coming to the island of the end and beginning, drawn by the Pirate King's fame and the discoveries made here. New houses were being built all the time, but currently there were no residential buildings for sale until the early summer, so the plan of moving in two days could be as well thrown out the window.

And despite that, Law and Rosapelo did manage to move to their new home, not even built by the head of the family, which he'd in despair considered. It had happened that - which he learned about only later - that his conversation with Ed had been overheard by Kaya, who then had informed her husband about the director's trouble, and through Usopp it finally had reached Franky, who reportedly had shed a tear of two due to such a misfortune of 'our friend Torao'. Then the matter had been practically settled, for the greatest carpenter in the world wasn't someone who needed anything to be repeated twice.

Franky had asked Zoro, who finally had managed to return to Raftel this spring, to supply the building material; the first swordsman of the Pirate King had no equal in cutting the wood in regard to speed and accuracy. Then the cyborg had grabbed his tools, arrived in Roger Bay, found the indicated spot (Kaya had casually asked Law about his preferences) and, in half a night, put a two-story house south to the city and by the road to the hospital. Then he put Law himself: in front of the house and in front of the fact, and awaited only 'thank you'.

Law was once again amazed that people could act that way, although maybe he should say 'friends'. He'd lived almost forty years, and he still hadn't got used to people making him a favour just like that, out of their good will. Then again, he knew that the problem didn't lie in others, but in himself, so he could only humbly accept the gift, although he did manage to almost offend Franky mentioning vel offering a payment. The cyborg said such things were but a piece of cake for him and a good warm-up for the work in the shipyard and refused taking any payment, but he mentioned he was looking forward to a moving day party.

For Franky's work, the house was pretty unpretentious - probably owing to the time limit - although the cyborg wouldn't be himself if he hadn't allowed himself even a little extravagance; he'd decorated all outer frames of the doors and windows with fantastic patterns, as he'd done with the spiral stairs leading to the upper floor, too. As for the interior, there was enough space for a big family; Franky had apparently assumed that Law would get it one day. There was a living-room, six smaller rooms, a kitchen, the bathrooms on either floor and even a sauna. The cyborg had also made a fence around the parcel so that a cosy garden could be created; it could be reached through the side door from the living-room.

When Franky had left, having first handed the owner an incised key, Law and Rosapelo stayed in the living-room of their new home, breathing the smell of fresh wood and trying to wrap their mind around the new twist in reality.

"Can we really stay here?" Rosapelo asked faintly, looking around the house.

"It's not like we have any other option," Law replied in a similar manner. "Besides, Franky would be hurt to the core if we didn't."

"What are we going to do with all these rooms?" this time Rosapelo's voice was much more crisp.

"Well, they certainly won't go to waste..." Law muttered, delighting in the warmth that filled him every time when the boy said 'we'. "Anyway, now you know you can look for a girlfriend since we have place for your future family, too."

Rosapelo stared at him in shock for a moment before looking at the empty interior. "What about the furniture?" he risked yet another question.

"I'm sure we can arrange something," Law replied with a phrase that had become a habit with him over the last few days. "First, let's go to Vokzel and see what you want to bring along."

* * *

Like he'd expected, during their travel to Rosapelo's home island, the boy grew more and more untalkative until he turned completely silent and lost in thought, obviously saddening ones. As they walked to his house, Law put one hand on his shoulder to offer him his support. Just like Ida had mentioned in the letter, Rosapelo and Mrs Irma had been living close to the city centre, in the three-story tenement house. The neighbours had a spare key to their flat - an elderly woman next doors was very glad to see the boy, although she seemed to still grieve for his mother - but Rosapelo's hands trembled so much that it was Law who had to open the door.

The flat had a living-room with two little bedrooms, a kitchen and a bathroom. White lacy curtains were hanging in the windows with several pots of dried geranium. The walls were of pastel colours, with a few paintings and framed photographs decorating them. A sewing machine was placed in the corner. Upholstered furniture seemed old but well-maintained, and the table was covered with a beautiful cloth. Flower vases and other trinkets could be seen everywhere. The flat seemed very cosy, and Law could imagine this place loved and cared for. Even though he'd met Mrs Irma only once, she seemed someone familiar to him - probably because of Rosapelo's tales and Ida's information - and now he felt this flat matched her character.

The boy was holding up well, but when they got inside he broke down. He sat on the coach and covered his face with his hands. Law let him cry and tried to not feel guilty for having brought him here. Finally, Rosapelo pulled himself together; he blew up his nose, wiped his tears and said he was fine now. In the end, he only wanted to take his desk, clothes, books and some other personal effects. When Law suggested that they took the pictures, too, he agreed, but nothing else; other items and furniture probably reminded him of his late mother too much. With the use of ROOM, the luggage was transferred to the harbour, then aboard the ship, and later to their new home...

...where they found a commotion and obvious beginning of a party, despite it being only 3 PM. It seemed that, through Usopp and Franky, the rest of the Straw Hats had got to know about Law's move - actually, was the opposite even possible? - and now the majority of them was bustling around the building. Law closed his eyes and then opened them again, but the vision wouldn't disappear. The former Straw Hat crew was really inside his new home, but for some reason the Pirate King himself was absent, which was rather concerning than comforting. Law knew that Luffy had returned to Raftel as soon as the news of the volcanic eruption in the neighbourhood had reached him, and he still hadn't resumed his voyage, hoping for another show, so far in vain.

It took a moment before the Straw Hats, lost in work, noticed the two of them in the doorway.

"Torao-kun!" Nami called, waving at him from the kitchen door. "How could you be so mean and never tell us you were moving? If not for Franky, we would've never known," she added reprovingly.

"I knew, but I didn't tell!" Sanji's voice came from the kitchen, and the next moment the man himself emerged from there in a dance of delight only to kneel before the former navigator and present her a dessert in a glass cup. Law was perfectly certain there hadn't been such dishes, nor any other, in the flat the last time he'd been here. "Nami-swan, cherry-blossom flavoured ice dessert, to emphasise your unrivalled beauty. Ah, you're even more pretty this spring!" he called with affection.

"Thank you, Sanji-kun," Nami replied, accepting the dessert.

"Can I have some, too?" Usopp poked up from behind the railing upstairs, his gaze full of hope. "Hello, Torao! I'm installing the lighting," he explained, waving with the screwdriver in his hand.

"The extras can have some vanilla cream that's left," Sanji informed in a snarly manner, but then he again assumed a blissful expression. "Robin-chwan! Let me bring you a dessert as a refreshment during your work!" he called and moved outside through the garden door in merry leaps.

Law glanced in that direction and saw Robin, who, with the use of her extra hands, was creating the flowerbeds around the house, while herself she was occupied with reading on a lawn chair. Sanji leaned over her in a serving pose and offered the dessert, which she accepted with a smile. A little farther, Zoro was sleeping in the sunlight, resting against the wall; his three swords were lying next to him on the grass. As if sensing the cook's presence, the swordsman opened one eye and, without changing his position, cast him an unfriendly look before resuming his nap.

Brook was hoeing a bush, three of them having been seating by the edge of the garden.

"It's a gift from me," Nami said, coming up to Law. "Some of my tangerine trees. You better take care of them."

"I'm finished, Nami-san!" the skeleton called, wiping his forehead. "I worked myself to the bone. But I'm all bones, yohohoho!" he laughed before lowering his voice. "Nami-san, as a reward, can I see your pants?"

Sanji knocked him out with one kick. "Brook, I won't have you speak to Nami-san that way. Besides, I'm the only one to see her pan-"

The rest of his statement turned into a groan when he was hit by a cup, already empty. Sanji fell on the grass in a pose of suffering and turned his painful face towards Law.

"The kitchen accessories are from me. Every kitchen should be decently equipped, even if you don't use it much. We opened another local, All Baratie: Roger Bay, right in the market square. You're free to dine there as much as you want or order meals home. I happened to overhear your conversation about catering troubles."

"Sanji, you're a man amongst men!" Franky's voice was to be heard from upstairs, and then the cyborg leaned out of the window. "It's a suuuuuuper offer! I wasn't wrong about you. Torao, I made you some furniture so that you didn't need to sleep and sit on the floor."

A sound of clicking - like hooves on the pavement - came from the direction of the hospital, and the next moment none other than the head of the internal medicine department in the Corazon Memorial Hospital jumped over the fence, in his full reindeer form. "Am I very late?!" he asked in a fluster, looking around the present ones, and assumed his daily appearance.

"You're just in time, we're still waiting for Luffy," Nami reassured him, squatting down to hug him. "Long time no see! And look who's here," she waved at the two in the background.

"Robin! Zoro!" Chopper called happily. "When did you come back?"

"Last week," Robin answered, showing him the place next to her that he willingly took. "I thought we would be back before the New Year, but..." She smiled sheepishly.

"No need to guess. Marimo got lost," Sanji said; he'd already got up after Nami's unexpected attack.

"I didn't get lost, you perverted cook," Zoro snapped back, casting him another hostile look. "I just wanted to spend some longer on the South Blue."

"I bet you don't even know where the South Blue is, the biggest lost child in the Grand Line."

"You want to go for it, mister curly eyebrows?" the former first mate of the Straw Hats grabbed his katana.

"Come, you third-rate-swordsman!" the cook replied, raising one leg in the fighting pose.

"Zoro-kun! Sanji-kun! Stop it at once! The children are looking," Nami stopped their advances with a glare.

"Yes, Nami-swan!" Sanji danced around the woman of his life.

"You better bring out some booze," Zoro muttered and rested his back against the wall again.

"HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY!" came from a distance, growing near with every passing second.

Everyone looked in the direction of the calling, which meant the centre of the island and somewhere up. The next moment Monkey D. Luffy appeared in the garden, as if he'd just fallen from the sky. He landed exactly between the flowerbeds and tangerine trees, which earned him a glare from both Nami and Robin.

"I've come!" the Pirate King announced happily and looked back. "The boys will be here any moment. They weren't fast enough, hahaha!"

"It seemed like you've jumped from the hill," Law said in a cold voice he used to address Straw Hat, once he could talk again.

"That's right. Hi, Torao!"

"Hello, Uncle Torao!" Laelya and Catleya called when their father disentangled them from his arms, and leapt towards Law, who stroke their hair.

"Are we still waiting for anyone?" he asked in a resigned voice.

"My three boys," Luffy replied. "Hancock isn't coming, she stayed with Faran and Boi, but she asked me to say that she wishes you all luck in your new life."

"It sounded like I got married," Law muttered with a sneer.

"You didn't?" Luffy asked in astonishment, shifting his gaze on Rosapelo, who was standing in Law's shadow all this time without a word, which couldn't surprise anyone. "But you have a son...? Where did he come from?"

Law closed his eyes and counted to ten, trying to ignore stifled snorting of Nami and Robin. "Straw Hat, I'm really amazed by the fact you know where the kids come from, after all..."

"More or less," Luffy grinned. "Well, who's the mother? Clione?"

"Clione is a guy," Law replied, astonished by his own patience. Only then he asked himself how Luffy could think that, in the first place.

"Is he...? Ah, right. I forgot, hahaha!" Luffy didn't seem to care much about his mistake. Then he did what no-one had dared to do so far: he approached Rosapelo and extended his hand. "Hi, I'm Luffy, the Pirate King!" he introduced himself.

Rosapelo cast Law a perplexed look and then shook the offered hand. "I'm Pelo," he said softly.

"Pelo, nice to meet. I have three sons in your age, they should be here any moment. Here are my daughters, Laelya and Catleya. So what really happened? Explain it to me, Torao. So that I understand..."

* * *

In the end, what should be a cosy evening in a new home turned into a party that, it seemed to Law, half of his employees participated in. Some came only for a moment, to congratulate him on the family and home; others stayed longer, mostly his former crew members. Many people brought gifts to the new flat along with food and drinks. Law had to come to terms with the fact he'd been naive, thinking he could keep a secret about the change that had happened in his life. Tomorrow, everyone probably would read about it in the global newspaper, he decided ironically... and then he stopped bothering about it.

Even though the commotion initially made him dizzy, later, whenever he recalled it, he would feel only nice warmth, for nothing unpleasant happened... once he overlooked the fact that the Pirate King Monkey D. Luffy had descended on his home with his family and crew to throw a big party...

Law briefly told Rosapelo's story both to his colleagues (except for Bepo, Clione and Kaya, very few had known who that boy was and how had he appeared in the life of their director) and the Straw Hats, who immediately accepted the teenager into their hearts. Franky shed a tear over Rosapelo's tragedy and ran to furnish his room. Brook, contributing to the atmosphere with his violin music, dedicated him a farewell song to dear people. Nami, who had a soft spot for children, expressed her sympathy and promised that Rosapelo could always count on her; she also guaranteed him a free pass to the New Piece. Robin gave him several books about history and travelling and offered her company in discussion on interesting topics. Usopp handed him a tool box and a sling of his own making, and wished him to become a brave warrior of the sea one day, while Zoro informed that he didn't have much to do and could help him in his training anytime. Sanji prepared him a special dessert that almost made Luffy's eyes fall out of his head, but the Pirate King had to settle with something less elaborated.

The Pirate King himself said that Rosapelo could visit him whenever he wanted. It was impossible to say if the boy had become friends with Luffy's sons right away - he was too overwhelmed, and besides he had very little contact with his peers for over two months - but at least their company didn't seem to displease him. Laelya and Catleya were clearly enchanted by him and clung to him for the rest of the day, which brought a wry smile on Law's face; he hoped that Luffy would wait some longer with making marriage plans, though...

Party was going on even after it got dark. Sanji provided the guests with delicious dishes and drinks one after another. Franky, whenever he managed to get away from the little work in the house engaging his attention, would sit down with a guitar and plied the gathered with wistful ballads. Most of the time, though, Brook would play happy tunes. Chopper would dance to his music and jump, crying of joy and clasping his hooves. Zoro, Usopp, Penguin, Shachi and Jean Bart formed a drinking circle in the garden; every now and then, raised voices or bursts of laughter could be heard from there, the latter whenever Usopp managed to tell a good joke. Beautiful ladies - Nami, Robin, Ikkaku and Kaya - with their hair pinned up and make-up, wearing evening dresses and jewellery, ganged together... letting Clione join; in regard to dressing, he was no less magnificent. The psychiatrist was wearing a navy dress with a low cut on his back and even higher heels he normally had... and occasionally cast Law come-hitter looks that Law himself tried not to notice.

Luffy accompanied the host all the time, talking about everything and anything, among others giving him advices on bringing up children that Law listened to with one ear and let out with the other. Fortunately, he was saved from the Pirate King's unrestrained affection by Bepo, who kept very close and whom Luffy admired almost as much as he did Law; that way, Luffy's attention was divided between the two of them.

When Laelya and Catleya fell asleep, Senti was very close to it, and his brothers tried to stop yawning, and at least half of the guests were completely drunk, Nami ordered the end of the party. Accepting no words of complaint, she drove all men (except for Clione and the two hosts) into cleaning, which brought the flat to the state from the morning. There was no end of farewells, but finally Law and Rosapelo were left alone in their own home... that appeared strange without the crowd that had gone through it today. (In the morning, they were to find Zoro in the garden, but neither of them knew about it yet).

"Did you have fun?" Law asked, closing the door and locking it, then looked at the boy, who had sat on the chair.

"I don't know... I guess so."

"I think something like that won't happen anytime soon," Law said in a comforting manner and smiled wryly. "And now you got to know all that crazy bunch all in once."

"They seem very nice," Rosapelo said cautiously.

"And they really are so," Law confirmed, and his smile grew wider. "They are good friends."

Rosapelo nodded and yawned.

"Time to sleep?" Law suggested, dimming the light. "It was a long day. And, in a way, very exhausting..."

"No, I want to sit some longer," Rosapelo replied, putting the elbows on the table and resting his chin on the hands, so Law sat next to him.

Neither of them would speak for a while, and the house filled with silence so deep they could hear the sound of waves, coming through the window. A gull cried on the shore, as if something had raised it from sleep, and a barking could be head from the city. The evening was calm and quite warm, although the spring chill could still be sensed. The air was smelling of fresh soil and wood. Law thought that this setting didn't make it hard to believe his life had really started anew.

"Law-san...?" Rosapelo finally spoke.

"Yes?"

"This... isn't a dream, right?"

"You think either of us could see such a crazy dream?" Law replied with a question. "I certainly couldn't."

Rosapelo shook his head... and then his lips twitched in a promise of smile. "Me neither," he said, but his words were hesitant when he added, "I hope it won't vanish when the morning comes..."

Law put one hand on his hair. "It won't," he warranted. "Franky's building can survive any cataclysm."

And this time Rosapelo giggled. Law looked at him with affection and asked himself what he had done to deserve such happiness.

"We'll enjoy living here, Pelo," he said.

"Yes," the boy who had become his son agreed. "Thank you, Law-san."

"Silly boy. There's nothing to thank me for."

So Rosapelo said no more, only nodded. 'It's me who should thank you,' Law thought, as they kept sitting by the table in the living-room, as if they didn't want to interrupt that magic moment: the first of the countless evenings in their home.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

Family life was something Law hadn't been prepared for. Yet, after just one week he noticed that living together with Rosapelo came without difficulty; that realisation was followed by a question: why should it be different? Everything was going smoothly, and it was easy to yield to the illusion that it would always go and that their future was only bright. Law was like intoxicated with his new life, and even though his reason would occasionally warn him about complications that would undoubtedly come one day, he didn't spare those flashes of realism any attention. It could have something to do with 'never going halfway' that, since he'd heard it from Clione, wouldn't get out of his head. He used to give his best in everything he found important, and his life with Rosapelo was such thing.

He hardly ever wondered about the change that had happened in his existence, despite it being so tremendous that almost unreal. If someone had told him, just half a year ago, that when spring came he would form a family with a thirteen-year-old boy, he would have replied that something like that wouldn't happen even in a hundred years. He hadn't imagined himself to ever move out of his hospital or engage in something else than professional matters; not in this life or world. And yet it was exactly what had happened, and he accepted it without discussions.

Maybe it was about him rarely thinking of his decisions once they were made and realised, he just trusted himself on it... or maybe the reason was that the change had been so gigantic, so powerful that he couldn't grasp it, not yet, he just had to accept it and follow it as if it had been something imposed by fate and circumstances, not resulting from himself. Maybe he just didn't want to deliberate on his own actions, thoughts and feelings - all that had resulted in taking Rosapelo under his wing - for he feared the conclusion he might reach. He didn't feel ready to discover any new truth about himself, which would undoubtedly happen if he started to analyse deeper his motives behind that landmark decision.

Then, there were several reasons why he wouldn't talk with anyone about what had happened, only presented them with a fait accompli. Of course, such a behaviour was, in general, very odd and unusual - people normally informed their friends not only about starting a family, but also about much less important things - but Law had always been operating on different principles. (In fact, he considered himself someone socially impaired and thus standing outside the norms). Suffice it to say that it hadn't even occurred to him to tell the world - or even mention by the way - about suddenly having decided to adopt a teenage boy and make home with him. He'd decided it was only his business, and hadn't seen any need for the fireworks.

It hadn't crossed his mind that most people of Raftel - with emphasis on his colleagues and friends - treated him in a different way: as someone whose life, well-being and happiness they considered as their concern or just found interesting. It was likely that few people thought poorly of him for that privacy - either they were used to it or they believed that the greatest doctor in the world could do as he pleased - but they couldn't leave it without any reaction nevertheless. The authority he commanded was too big so that the others importunated him on the change and wanted to know the reasons - it was unthinkable that someone started inquiring about it during lunch, for example - but they could at least show him his support, and hence such a number of visitors on the flat-warming party thrown by the Straw Hats. In the end, apart from the Straw Hats, whom Law had briefly filled in on Rosapelo's story, skilfully avoiding to reveal the reasons of his decision, people had to settle with what they'd already known: that Trafalgar Law had started a family and moved in the house outside Roger Bay, and nothing else.

How his new daily life looked, then? He still spent most of the day in the hospital, but he slept at home, where he also ate breakfasts and suppers he would always come for between his duties: around seven AM, when the morning surgeries were over and Rosapelo got up, and around six PM, after he'd finished the new admissions. His schedule remained practically unchanged... except for one substantial modification: Trafalgar Law started to take _one day off weekly_.

Bepo commented on it for a whole month, Ikkaku cast him the looks as if he's grown another head, and Clione only nodded with understanding; only he was aware that Law couldn't do anything else. Rosapelo stopped protesting about Law limiting his work - work that no-one else could do - _for him_; his foster father had made him understand once more that he'd made such a decision and didn't mean to withdraw it, his tone indicating the complete unwillingness to discuss that topic. The local paper would write about it for at least one week. Some started to voice their dissatisfaction about the miracle-doctor disregarding the patients instead of fulfilling his mission and duty to the humanity. Those critics, however, were quickly shouted down by the personnel of the Corazon Memorial Hospital, supporting their director and reasoning that Trafalgar Law was a man like others and had the right to normal life, and their opinion was backed by the majority of Raftel and the Four Islands population, too.

Law, personally, didn't care about the opinions and beliefs of others, as he didn't feel obliged to anyone. All his life, save for some situations, he'd been acting just as he wanted and paid little attention to what others thought about him; why should he change his policy now? Nevertheless, he hoped that the voice of criticism wouldn't reach Rosapelo, for the boy was much more sensitive - one could say that, compared to Law and the freaks in his surrounding, he was a perfectly normal kid - and didn't deserve any mistreatment that he might experience because of his guardian.

For now, however, it didn't seem likely. Rosapelo went to school in Roger Bay and indeed landed in the same class with Monkey D. Ace, which filled Law with relief. Of course, it wasn't about the boy feeling lonely in a new place, only about more practical aspects: friendship with the Pirate King's first-born could become Rosapelo's strength, as he didn't have any supernatural powers or special abilities to protect himself from an enemy. (Well, as far as Law knew, Ace didn't have them either, but he could fight and inherited the instinct of helping his important people from his father). Only later Law realised he was thinking in martial categories, while the world had been at peace for a longer while. It was the time of normal people now, and the Devil Fruit users no longer utilised their abilities to fight only to help others. In this age, Rosapelo, a perfectly ordinary boy who liked to play football and read about travelling, had no reason to be afraid of anything.

Of course, Law didn't want to think of his foster son like a perfectly ordinary person and was more than willing to pick up his virtues and strengths. It soon appeared that Rosapelo could prepare very good breakfasts that Law rode home for so fast he left a smoke trail. (Since his foster son had voiced his displeasure about using the Ope Ope no Mi in situations it wasn't absolutely required, Law had equipped himself with a bicycle, and it was that transport method he used to cover the distance between home and work. In doing so, he started the cycling craze on Raftel and, which was quite absurd in and of itself, received the public praise from Admiral Kuzan, the greatest admirer of the single-track vehicles). Not only omelettes, eggs and sandwiches, but also porridge, congee and other milk soups, and even onigiri! As for the dinners, they would order them from the All Baratie: Roger Bay, but Law suspected it was just a temporary solution, for he'd discovered that the boy, in secret, used their fully equipped kitchen to practise real cooking. It appeared that, along with the books, Rosapelo had smuggled his mother's recipe notebook from Vokzel. The boy had skilled hands, so peeling, cutting and chopping came easy to him - just like all chores - and Law wondered if he should suggest him to take Sanji's cooking course or wait some longer with it. He hoped that the boy wouldn't shed too much tears over his mother's notes, only incorporate that part of her life into his own, instead. He knew from experience that it was the best way to honour the beloved person that had left for ever.

As for Rosapelo himself, the boy initially behaved like a guest in his own home - he clearly had troubles believing it was _really_ his home - but it was the same with Law, so it wasn't hard to understand. When they installed themselves in their flat, put all items into wardrobes and cupboards, and performed the crucial modifications like hammering a nail for a clock, hanging the shelves in the future library and stretching the washing lines in the garden, it was only then that Rosapelo seemed to understand it was the place he could and should stay. And when he started to do the housework, just like he'd promised, something akin to confidence appeared in his gaze, filling Law with genuine joy.

Over the next weeks, Law could see it more and more clearly that the boy finally livened up and started to become his old self. Even though he'd recovered already during his long stay in the Corazon Memorial Hospital, it had required something more to restore his cheerfulness. He'd needed to be assured that his life had sense, since he hadn't believed that there was any sense in just living. He'd lost something he could never get back again, and it couldn't be changed, but Law had given him something else, something to help him ease the pain of loss. And that was apparently happening: every day they spent together seemed to make Rosapelo stronger and heal the wound in his heart, adding to his buoyancy. Law could still remember the words the boy had said during their conversation in the All Baratie: 'I'm happy,' and the memory filled him with warmth every time. One month ago, he wouldn't have believed that wronged kid to be ever happy again, and then it had appeared he could make it himself. It was amazing, shocking and, above all, good. And it was a reality he couldn't - didn't want to - turn away from.

That the boy's mood had improved could be seen with a naked eye. Rosapelo's stride became more dapper, his movements were more decisive, and his voice was stronger. He started to talk more openly to other people. Genuine emotions could be seen on his face; he started to smile and later laugh, too. Law was positive nothing more perfect than that laugh existed in the world, and he promised to do anything to protect it for ever. It didn't mean that bad times didn't happen at all, but, contrary to the situation from two-three months ago, Law no longer feared to confront the boy's bad mood. Now he tried to actively pick up and neutralise them, for everything inside him protested against leaving Rosapelo alone with his grief. Sometimes the boy would fall into dejection and despair, retreat into himself and lose hope. Sometimes he would blame himself for his mother's death again and consider his happiness as something bad. Sometimes he would ask, 'Why me?', and Law would remember having once asked himself about it, as he hadn't got time to ask Cora-san. And now some strange things happened, for whenever he would answer his foster son - putting all his love into ensuring him he was guilty of nothing and deserved to be happy - he was under the impression he was finally answering himself.

Law had spent two thirds of his life feeling guilty for Corazon's death, and his remorse had obscured almost all good that Donquixote Rosinante had done in order to save him. It had happened because Law hadn't let himself believe he'd had the right to be happy. Even if he'd known, deep inside, that Cora-san had wanted him to be only happy, his cold realism had made him consider accepting life and _enjoying_ it as a wickedness. He'd decided he hadn't deserved it, having caused death of the best man in the world. He'd had no mean to atone or compensate his crime that he'd regarded to be the greatest sin, so he could only condemn himself. Doing so, he'd unconsciously modified the image of Corazon in his memory: he'd turned that angel of love into a vengeful god and _believed_ that Cora-san must have regretted having died for him, for someone like him. Actually, it was a vicious cycle of self-accusations with a single conclusion: Trafalgar Law had been bad, a belief that explained, excused and motivated everything. That stance had been additionally emphasised by the fight with death that Law had taken on behalf of the humanity: even if he hadn't valued _his own_ life, he'd believed that it was the most precious gift for anyone else - and since Corazon had lost it because of him, Law had deserved only to be punished. Such thinking had dominated his actions, and he long since had stopped thinking of it.

Now, when the fate had put Rosapelo on his way - the boy who had become his whole world and who Law would do absolutely anything for - Law couldn't help but returned to the events from twenty-six years ago... and threw doubt on what he'd uncritically believed in all that time. Could it be that Cora-san _had just loved him_ \- period, no discussion, love being the argument for everything...? Accepting it wasn't easy - actually, it might be the most difficult thing in his life - for his twisted conscience kept persuading him into thinking he couldn't compare Rosapelo and himself because Rosapelo was a good kid and nowhere near the monster Law had become when only ten years old... But when he managed to silence all those critical voices in his head for a moment, he could comprehend that Cora-san had never cared about the evil in him and had seen only a hurting child to be helped instead, one he'd felt for more than anything, and his love had been much stronger than Law's hate could ever be. In the result, Cora-san had done what he'd considered natural and in accordance with his feelings, and it was likely that if he'd been to choose again, he would have done exactly the same thing and without any regret - as the same Law would do now for Rosapelo: sacrifice his life if it were the only chance to save him.

Of course, it would take much longer until Law could believe it fully - after all, it was about something he'd been governed by for most of his life, and such beliefs used to grow into flesh and psyche - but maybe there was a chance for easing that feeling of guilt that gnawed at his happiness and kept repeating that someone like him didn't deserve it.

Because, recently, it became more frequent that Law had the impression he was happy.

* * *

In late-April, they received an invitation to participate in the renaming ceremony of the volcano on Tihxel. In the second round, the fierce battle between 'Mount Trafalgar' and 'Trafalgar's Peak' had taken place (much to Law's relief, 'Trafalgar Tip' had suffered the fate of other ridiculous submissions), with the former emerging victorious. Law heard rumours that there had been some brawls between the supporters of different names, but he didn't mean to believe it... even though anything could be expected of people living in the shadow of an active volcano. Well, he didn't intend to ever associate with them again - even less with the 'Mt. Trafalgar' - so he rejected the invitation, excusing himself with the work. However, when Rosapelo mentioned once and twice that he'd love to see a volcano - undoubtedly, a bad influence of Luffy's kids - giving him a begging look, Law's capitulation was disgracefully quick. His foster son rarely asked him for anything; since he'd voiced such a wish now, Law would be a wretch refusing him such a little thing.

After a month or so, he began to suspect that Rosapelo had him wrapped around his finger, although the boy himself was probably perfectly oblivious to that, and Law was the only one to blame anyway.

Rosapelo was a good and obedient kid. He never acted against Law's will; quite the contrary, he clearly strived to please him all the time. Law had a vague impression that a teenager should be much more... defiant? In the end, it started to worry him, and he asked himself if Rosapelo, after all, shouldn't hang more with the Pirate King's offspring, absurd as the idea was. As the time passed, though, he realised that such was the boy's character, and the attachment only added to it. In the ened, Law had to accept it and decide that he could've had it much worse - he could've met a real rascal - and yet the fate had smiled on him also in this matter.

After the ceremony on Tihxel - Law considered it a waste of time, and only Rosapelo's excited expression when the boy was staring at the volcano in the centre of the island motivated him to stay and keep responding with a wry smile to all oohs and ahs directed at him - their daily life continued, turning into a pleasant routine. Spring kept favouring them with sunny and warm weather, the flowerbeds covered with pansies, and several cross spiders wove their orb webs between the fence pickets. Rosapelo brought home an injured kitten that Law operated without blinking an eye and that complemented their small family. Rosapelo named him Tiger, that was Tora, and Law would find it quite amusing if he didn't turn around every time his foster son called the stripped creature. The idyll continued.

It was May when one day Law returned home for breakfast and, instead of omelette and tea, he found Rosapelo sitting on the kitchen floor and clearly protecting his right hand. Law didn't need any explanation, but the boy provided him with them anyway. "I fell from the stool when I was taking flour out of the cupboard," he said in an unhappy voice, unable to look him in the eye.

"Why didn't you call me?" Law scolded him and activated the Ope Ope no Mi. "How long have you been sitting here?"

"Just a moment. I didn't want to disturb you..."

"Silly boy, who else should you disturb if not your fa-... guardian?" He wimped out of saying 'father', even though it was what he was for the boy... But Rosapelo called him by his name, so 'father' didn't seem right. "Then, you could call the emergency unit, at least."

Rosapelo nodded and said nothing, and Law had a look at the fracture. At first, he couldn't believe it as, between the shoulder and the wrist, the boy's bone were broken in _several_ places. He quickly healed the injury, and tension on Rosapelo's face faded when the pain subsided. The boy took a deep breath - he had been breathing pretty shallow before - and said, "Thanks," but dejection could be still heard in his voice. "I didn't want it to happen..."

"I bet you didn't," Law agreed, rising and helping him up, too. "I'd find it somewhat strange if you wished to be broken."

"I always give you trouble..."

"Now, Pelo. You're talking nonsense. You better take care of breakfast, I'm hungry," Law said, trying to divert the boy's attention from unpleasant thoughts.

The effect was, however, the opposite, as Rosapelo lowered his head even more and when he turned to the sink to wash the eggs, a painful 'I'm sorry' came from his direction, followed by a sniff.

Law scolded himself inwardly. How an idiot he was to have brought his son to tears when the boy had been feeling bad enough already?

"I'm sorry, Pelo. I shouldn't have said it," he rushed to reassure the boy, and when Rosapelo nodded, he added dryly, "It is I who should be apologising. I promised to do something about your fractures, and I still haven't. I'm mad at myself for that," he admitted and grabbed the kettle. "I'll make tea."

When the omelette was on the frying pan - with peas and carrots, judging from the ingredients on the table - and tea was being brewed, Rosapelo cast him a timid look. "But if nor for my fractures, we would have never met," he said softly and averted his eyes immediately.

"Are you happy about it?" Law muttered.

Rosapelo said nothing, but he nodded over the pan. 'If not for your fractures, your mother wouldn't have died, trying to transport you to Raftel during storm," Law thought, but, of course, he wasn't going to say it aloud. Nothing could be done about the past - another truth he'd 'discovered' in the last months - they could only accept it... and maybe it was really better to focus only on its positive aspects...?

"Fine," he stated, "but I'm going to do something about your bones nonetheless. And know what? I'll start tonight."

* * *

As Law used to put his plans into action as soon as possible, he indeed started to work on his foster son's skeleton as soon as this evening. He couldn't prevent the boy from falling down, so the only option was to make his bones stronger. So far, whenever he'd healed Rosapelo's fractures, he'd rebuilt the bone as it had been before the injury, but now he decided to change the strategy.

"Pelo, I'm going to increase the density of your bones," he informed the boy as they had eaten the supper, cleaned the kitchen and returned to the living-room, illuminated by the soft light of the lamp.

They were followed by Tiger, who sat down next to the stairs and started his evening grooming, pretending he wasn't interested with the two of them in the slightest and only occasionally glancing at either of them between the strokes of his pin tongue. Rosapelo was sitting on the couch, and Law on a chair, facing him. It made him remember the time they'd spent on psychiatry, in early spring, many moments that had strengthen their bond... but now he drove away those memories, for he should start strengthening something more substantial.

"I can't do it with your every bone at once," he continued, "for it's going to increase your body mass. If it happened suddenly, it would inevitably lead to problems with moving. That's why we'll do it in parts, so that you get accustomed to gaining weight. I'm sure you will manage because your muscles became stronger... especially during all that housework you do," saying that, he smiled. "What do you think about it? Will you be up for that?"

"Do I have any other choice?" the boy asked crisply, and Law thought that reasonable approach was something he really adored in the kid. "Just like you said before, I don't want to be broken all the time."

Law nodded. "I think we should start with your lower body. But I must warn you that the beginning will be a most risky, for you're certainly going to experience troubles with walking. But if we started with your upper body, the risk of losing your balance and falling would be even greater, so we must choose the lesser evil. That's why you must walk very carefully in the next days. No sport, no running, climbing, to say nothing of fighting, and instead constant vigilance by every step. Can you promise me that, Pelo?" he asked in a serious voice.

Rosapelo nodded and then frowned. "I don't fight," he said with some resentment.

"That's very good," Law praised him, refraining from smiling. "One thing less to remember. Of course, you can't chase Tiger either." He glanced at the cat - Tiger didn't even move his ear, for he didn't use to react to his name - then looked at the boy again. "And you will have to move downstairs temporary... I'm sorry, you probably only started to get used to your room, but we can't risk. Most of all, I'd love to keep you home, but you must move in order to adapt to your new weight. Later, it will be easier."

"I understand," Rosapelo answered, and he certainly did, for he wasn't a stupid kid.

"Then, let's get started," Law said cheerfully and activated the Ope Ope no Mi. "Lie down. I'll anesthetise you, and when you're awake we're going to assess the situation. It won't take long," he promised.

Increasing the bone density resembled passing a wire through the openings of an already tight sieve. He decided to start with Rosapelo's right foot, which meant almost half an hour of work, as there were exactly twenty-six bones in a human foot, and Law always did his job diligently. However, when he was done - every bone, from calcaneus to the distal phalanx of the fifth toe, became tighter - he hadn't felt the passage of time at all. Tiger had finished his grooming and was now lying on the pillow by the wall he often used to sleep on.

"Do you know which part I tended to?" Law asked when Rosapelo sat down on the edge of the couch again.

"Right foot?"

"Correct. How are you feeling? How does _it_ feel?"

Rosapelo moved the said part. "Strange. Like you said, it seems heavier."

"No pain?"

"No... but the ankle pulls a bit."

Law nodded. The ankle joint had all right to act up; now it had to bear with the greater weight. "Now I have a task for you," he said, and the boy focused his eyes on him again. "I still have some work to, so when I'm off to the hospital, I'd like you to exercise that foot. You may sit or lie, it doesn't matter. What matters is that you get used to the weight. And don't get up, okay? We'll walk once I'm back, and I'll try to finish as quickly as possible. We'll arrange you the room downstairs, too. Can I count on you, Pelo?"

"You know you can," the boy muttered discontentedly, although his gaze was somewhat anxious.

Law tousled his hair with a smile and got up. "I'll be back as soon as possible," he repeated. "Do you need anything before I leave?"

Rosapelo shook his head. "I'll be fine," he assured him... or, maybe, it was himself he wanted to assure above all. "I'll be waiting, Law-san."

Law knew that people - especially kids - often did exactly the opposite that what they'd been told, but it seemed to him that Rosapelo was one of those rare cases who obediently listened to the 'older and wiser'. Of course, one day his foster son would do as he wanted himself, but for now Law could trust his common sense. Rosapelo knew what was good for him and obviously trusted the medical expertise of his foster father, who, by pure accident, happened to be the greatest doctor in the world. That was why, when Law returned home nearly three hours later, he found the boy where he'd left him, on the couch, and this time accompanied by Tiger, sitting on the rest.

Law decided to spare himself asking 'Did you get up?', for there was no reason to doubt the boy, and instead he said, "How are you? Your leg is fine?"

Rosapelo nodded. "I can feel the exercises in the calf," he admitted.

"So you've been busy," Law praised him. "What now?"

"I want to have a pee," Rosapelo muttered.

"Then go, but carefully," Law replied cheerfully and activated ROOM in order to prevent a possible collapse.

According to his request, the boy was clearly concentrating on taking steps and moving in general. Law knew that conscious controlling of muscle tension was exhausting, but there was no other way. He had to believe that Rosapelo would manage and the experimental treatment would be successful, with the side-effects limited to minimum.

"And?" he asked when the boy came back from the toilet. "How's walking?"

"Like you said, the foot is heavier, but I can walk anyway. I'll get used to it," Rosapelo assured him and started to slowly walk around the room.

"I think you will. What concerns me are unexpected situations when you'll have to move without planning. It's easy to forget you should be careful, and the catastrophe is ready," Law muttered, sitting down on the couch and stroking Tiger absently; the cat was following his walking owner with his eyes.

"I'll be careful, don't worry about it," the boy tried to convince him. "Fortunately, I'm not the most vigorous person in the world," he added with a great deal of self-irony Law had never heard before from him.

"Well, in that case it should work out well for you... But what about football? For some time, you can't play," Law said, hoping that he would never have to forbid Rosapelo from playing permanently.

"But it's not going to take long...?" the boy pointed out lucidly.

"A month... Not longer than one and a half. I'm going to perform these surgeries every three days, it should give you time to get used to the gradual weight difference. Of course, we'll slower down if required."

Rosapelo nodded. "It doesn't sound bad," he decided. "I'll manage."

Law smiled. "Speaking of the most vigorous people... How's school? Ace and his brothers don't cause too much troubles? Well, I haven't heard about the school being destroyed, so they probably keep it in check...?" he inquired.

"They know well that, if they caused problems, their mom would take them back home at once," Rosapelo replied matter-of-factedly, never stopping his walk. "And that's something they really don't want."

"So they don't pull pranks?"

"Of course they do... they just don't let anyone know it was them," Rosapelo said, and his eyes twinkled.

Law burst out laughing. "I can imagine that. What about you? You play pranks with them?"

"Me?" the boy asked with a fake surprise. "Well, maybe it did happen, once or twice... But it was nothing serious," he rushed to explain. "Once, in maths, I was keeping the teacher talking while Ace replaced the chalk for a piece of soap. But that prank didn't work out well 'cause the teacher didn't care about the swap, only kept writing on the table, even though it could be hardly seen... Maybe because his sight is bad. In the end, it was us who came off worse," he added moodily. "We had to borrow the notes from the kids in the neighbouring class."

"And the other time?"

Rosapelo beamed. "Senti persuaded us to set free all animals from the biology room. He felt bed about them being caged. They did it after school, and I was keeping a watch," he said proudly.

"Did it succeed?"

"Yeah... But some of them, instead of getting outside, crawled over the school, and we could hear someone screaming from time to time, upon finding a frog or a snake in the changing room or in the toilet. Or a tarantula in a drawer," he informed cheerfully, but then he looked at Law with anxiety and stopped. "I think I shouldn't do such thing...? Are you mad...?"

Law shook his head. "You're not doing anything bad. Things like that are normal for kids of your age, and they hardly harm anyone," he replied. He was glad Rosapelo had been accepted by Ace and into the group, although it seemed that, for now, he was more a helper than an active troublemaker. "As long as you don't put yourself to danger, everything is okay," he reassured him. "And the lessons... Are you doing well?" he kept inquiring as the boy resumed walking.

"It's okay... But I like geography, shop and PE the most."

"And the guys?"

"Ace is great in geography since he already travelled quite a lot. He's good in history and literature, too."

"Ace? Good in literature?" Law asked in surprise. He couldn't quite imagine the firstborn of the Pirate King devoted to reading.

"How to say it... He has a very good memory, can remember stories and words," Rosapelo explained. "He always discusses with the teachers, has language skills. It's a pleasure to listen to him. Everyone in class eagerly waits when he would read his essay."

"Who could have thought... What about Zeno and Senti?"

"I think Zeno likes shop and PE the most," came the quick reply, "but, frankly, they all do very well in PE. And Senti loves biology. He would only observe the animals all day. It's hard to get him out of the biology room... Anyway, it was hard when there were still animals there."

"I see that none of you is fond of maths and laboratory...?" Law said with a crooked smile.

"Well... Too many numbers and formulas," Rosapelo confessed in embarrassment, but then he added brightly, "Ace says that we must leave something for Faran, too."

"Right, Faran want to go to university and become a scientist," Law admitted, recalling his visit in Luffy's place and the ambitions of the five-year-old. "In any case, it seems that the school is fun...?"

Rosapelo nodded and kept talking about his educational experience, while Law tried to imagine it. Himself, he'd attended school only until he'd been ten, when his childhood and normal life had ended. Since then, he'd educated himself without help, which hadn't been difficult, owing to his intelligence and perfect memory. Now that he listened to Rosapelo's story, he remembered some scenes from Flevance, memories he hadn't recalled for thirty years. Yes, he could remember having had fun in school; he'd liked the lessons, admired the teachers and enjoyed studying together with his friends... but, in fact, it seemed to him that boy had been someone else. That Trafalgar Law would never had thought about becoming a pirate...

Listening to Rosapelo, Law didn't ask if the boy missed the school on Vokzel, one he'd attended for years. He guessed it was probably so, and it would take some longer before the boy got accustomed to the new place. When taking care of all formal business, they'd informed his old school that after a severe illness Rosapelo had moved to Raftel to live there permanently. The boy had wanted that his friends knew he was fine, after he'd vanished without a word for over two months. Law had been glad about it; it meant that his foster son minded other people again, which was the proof of psychological recovery.

However, it seemed that Rosapelo adjusted well to the new circumstances and Law shouldn't worry. Now that the sons of the Pirate King had accepted him into their group, there was no reason to be concerned. Law counted everything would go well and the only problem they would have to address was the boy's health.

"How is it?" he asked when Rosapelo had practically beaten a path in the living-room, Tiger's head almost got twisted off, and Law himself was near getting a nystagmus.

"Nothing. I mean, I have no problems with walking."

"What about your leg? Isn't it too exhausted?"

"It isn't."

"Good," Law said and got up. "But it's getting late, so we must install you downstairs. What about the room in the corner...?"

Rosapelo stopped and looked in the right direction. "Sure. It's empty anyway."

"Then, let's go," Law replied, then broadened ROOM to cover most of the house and moved the content of the boy's room to its replacement.

"The Ope Ope no Mi is a great invention," Rosapelo commented, opening the door to his temporary room. Tiger jumped inside before the boy managed to even step over the threshold.

"You bet," Law agreed. "But don't go inside, it's dark. Let me plug the lamp in first... Okay, it's done. The furniture are just like it was upstairs, but it's not so spacious here, so be careful. I don't want you to trip over the chair or the corner of the bed in the night."

"But I hardly ever get up at night," Rosapelo pointed out. "I _will_ be careful, though."

Law nodded. "I'm afraid that 'careful" is going to be your second name for the next month," he muttered.

"I'll manage," the boy repeated with a smile. "Besides... Law-san, over the last year I really learned to move carefully. I know I can't do anything about those unexpected falls... but I at least try to limit those I could cause myself."

Law wondered about it. Before, it would have never occurred to him to think that Rosapelo could possess good motor coordination - recurrent falls resulting in fractures indicated rather the opposite - but now that he thought about it, he came to the conclusion it couldn't be excluded.

"Pelo... are you a good football player?"

Rosapelo looked at him in surprise. "When still on Vokzel, I was the best in the school team," he answered, and there was no conceit to his words, just stating the fact.

Law drove away the happy realisation that statement implied: that the boy had regained his normal self-esteem - after severe depression something like that was a good sign - and, instead, focused on the merit of that information. If Rosapelo was the best player, then he must have a perfect control over his body indeed. And the thought of depression brought to his mind another memory, one he really didn't want to remember: the boy, wearing only the hospital slippers, moving on the uneven surface of ice sealing the coastal waters. Of course, Law was aware that a man with an aletered mental status was capable of things that normally weren't possible, but that particular scene, too, indicated that Rosapelo could control his movements perfectly and had no troubles with keeping his balance.

He dismissed the unpleasant vision and focused his gaze on the boy again. "Then, it's probably like you say. You can move consciously and carefully," he said. "But I think that we must cut your fringe anyway."

Rosapelo wrinkled his nose - he really was fond of his somewhat messy hair - but didn't protest, only nodded. Law didn't wait any longer; with one wave of his hand, he cut the brown hair slightly over the eyebrows. The severed tips flied up and then started to slowly fall. Rosapelo blinked several times; a sudden lightness on his forehead probably needed a moment to get used to it.

"I cut it only little; they would grow back in no time," Law comforted him with a smile, although he didn't really feel like smiling. 'If cutting your hair could solve the problem, it would be too much happiness...' he thought. "I'm sorry, I still didn't remedy your falls," he added in a serious voice.

"But you're trying all the time," Rosapelo replied, brushing some short hair from his nose. "You're ought to succeed one day."

Law thought that such words had never comforted him so much before like now... but never before had he heard them from someone he cared deeply about. Rosapelo believed that Law could cure him of that peculiar disease that could cause him even a serious disability... Then, why shouldn't it happen? Who could heal him if not the greatest doctor in the world, the user of the Ope Ope no Mi...?

"You're right. One day I'll succeed," he repeated. "Thanks for your support, Pelo."

And Rosapelo beamed and said no more.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

Spring continued, occasionally resembling summer, as May headed towards June. The weather was splendid, the rainy days were rare and only enhanced the blooming of the nature. Everything around smelled and buzzed, and never before had Law been so aware of the natural world around him as he was this year, that was the first year of his new life. It seemed he had spend the previous decade or two in some torpor eliminating all stimuli unrelated to his work and medicine from his perception. For doctors, it was all the same what temperature was outside or how the trees and bushed looked like, nor did they paid any attention to the day being sunny or cloudy and rainy. Weather counted as much as its extreme phenomena that might cause accidents or disasters and thus produce the patients. What could also contribute to his view was the fact that he'd very rarely left the hospital and used to observe the nature mostly from the window of his office, looking out on the sea, on top of it.

Now the situation was entirely different - to such an extent that Law would have never imagined it - and maybe that was why the grass seemed greener, and the light brighter. He lived in his own house, daily covered the distance between his home and work and had a garden right outside the wall. Pansies planted by Nico Robin showed themselves proudly to the world, and later also marigolds bloomed. Bees and bumblebees flied over the flowerbeds, as did multicoloured butterflies that Tiger was merrily hunting whenever he felt like. Birds often sat down on the fence, above all the ubiquitous sparrows, filling the silence with animated chirping. Every now and then, Law caught himself observing his surroundings and thinking that living with a contact with the nature wasn't that bad.

He knew all that had happened because of Rosapelo, whose presence had made him aware of other aspects of life than work. On one hand it was strange; when Law looked at himself, he was under the impression he was seeing someone new... But on the other hand he vaguely remembered that long ago he'd been a normal person, and he'd turned into that medicine-focused machine only later. Before that, he'd been someone sensitive who could simply enjoy seeing the blooming fruit trees or a puppy playing in the grass... and now he was being reminded of that earlier self, discovering it hadn't been destroyed completely, driven out by that cold and ever rational person who'd decided to never again become attached to anyone, never again let anyone into his heart...

And yet he'd become attached, and it filled him with happiness, although simultaneously he realised fear dwelling on the edges of his consciousness and sometimes reminding of itself. It was fear of Rosapelo, fear that something might happen to the boy. Until now, Law had lost everyone he'd loved without exception: family, friends and Corazon. He didn't know how it was to get something and be able to keep it for ever, and thus he was scared to death that he would lose Rosapelo, too. Normally, he tried to ignore that fear, but every now and then, always unexpected - when he talked to the boy or just looked at him - a thought wrenching his insides would overtake him: that Rosapelo might disappear. He kept repeating himself that nowadays he was much stronger than he'd been as a ten or thirteen-year-old... but he knew well that he wasn't an almighty god. Even if he was powerful enough to defeat a volcano, there was still a million dangers capable of taking the boy who'd become his son from him... dangers he just couldn't nullify.

Sometimes he felt a senseless urge to lock Rosapelo home and forbid him from going anywhere, or take him to the hospital to keep an eye on him. It seemed that only in his immediate vicinity the boy was safe... But he knew that such thinking was absurd, so he resisted that instincts and let Rosapelo lead a normal life without pointless restrictions. Even if he wanted to protect him from any evil, he couldn't turn him into a prisoner of his own fears. The boy wasn't his property, and Law had to trust him. Rosapelo was a sensible kid who didn't use to get into trouble - the pranks with Luffy's sons couldn't be counted as dangerous - quite the contrary: the boy listened to him without question and respected his opinion.

It wouldn't stop amazing him. At first, he suspected that Rosapelo felt uncertain in this new situation and did everything to please his guardian. He even admitted, with reluctance weighing on his chest, that it wouldn't be anything odd if Rosapelo feared he could be _abandoned_ if he didn't behave. He was an orphan that had been taken in and given a new home; also, he'd gone through depression that could completely ruin one's self-esteem and confidence... Of course he must have thought that...! It would require a longer while - and many words of assurance - for him to believe fully that he'd been given all that for good. Only then he would gain courage to defy his guardian, for it would be unnatural if they always agreed. They were two different people with their own beliefs, and one day Rosapelo would start to express his. And even thought it was a good thing to have an obedient kid, Law awaited that time impatiently, for he felt uncomfortable with the thought his foster son was afraid to speak honestly and show his true feeling.

Sometimes, however, he couldn't resist the impression that Rosapelo simply _respected_ him as another person, and that was the reason for his politeness and obedience. Time after time, there would occur situations when the boy didn't seem uncertain or confused, hesitant or anxious - no, he was straight and natural, even spontaneous, and yet he never showed his displeasure or objected to Law's decisions. Did he stifle those less positive but perfectly normal emotions? Or did he accept everything and felt no need to discuss it? Law knew that when one loved someone, they often turned a blind eye to negatives, or even didn't notice them in the first place, for the pluses always overrode the minuses. In such cases, the other person's presence was enough to make one happy... but he didn't have courage to unreservedly believe that Rosapelo could feel towards him that way. Of course, he wasn't brave enough to ask about it, either, so all he could do was to keep guessing.

In any case, the boy's obedience made many things easier, one of them being the treatment method Law had started. Every three days, he performed the procedure of increasing the bone density, and in late-May it had been done to the majority of his skeleton. The boy fully obeyed his order: he moved carefully and avoided the situations that he might hurt himself. Law, in addition to everything else, was delighted by his foster kid's strong will and ability to realise his own decisions, for those were the traits he regarded highly in any person. Suffice it to say that in mid-May Rosapelo had the bones of his lower limbs, pelvis, spinal column and chest reinforced, and hadn't fallen even once, even though his weight had increased several kilograms in just three weeks. It was possible only due to great deal of concentration - constant focus while moving - and yet the boy had decided to make that effort and did his best to fulfill the task as well as he could. And he never complained. Whenever Law inquired about how he was feeling, the answer was the same, 'It's okay, I'll manage,' and nothing in his voice indicated he had any problem indeed.

It was past twentieth when one afternoon, in the middle of consultation session, Law's secretary contacted him. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Director, but we just had a call from the school. It's about your son," she said, and Law felt his heart stopped. "There was an accident and-"

"Thank you," Law interrupted her and hung up, only to activate the Ope Ope no Mi the next moment and teleport to Roger Bay, right on the yard of the school Rosapelo attended.

What could have happened? His imagination offered him several worst case scenarios, but his common sense tried to remind him that a school wasn't a place that something serious could happen to a kid... Still, thinking reasonably appeared pretty difficult when safety of a family member was in question. His heart was racing as he looked around for a medical office as it was the place he guessed Rosapelo would be. He didn't care about the surprised glances - it had to be a break, for the corridors and school grounds were full of kids - but in the end he realised he really had to ask someone. Fortunately, it was when his eyes caught an adult, a teacher, who showed him the way. The office was pretty close.

When he entered and saw Rosapelo, who was sitting on the bed - he also registered a nurse standing beside him - he felt greatly relieved. In his medical sight, he assessed that the boy had the right arm broken, but it was the only thing ailing him, nothing serious. Despite that, Rosapelo seemed completely down, and his dejected expression only deepened when he raised his eyes and saw Law in the doorway. Law thought it wasn't about pain... or, at least, not only.

"I didn't want them to call you," Rosapelo muttered, lowering his head again.

"Silly boy, it's very good that they called," Law scolded him, sitting on the bed and activating the Ope Ope no Mi once more. "Wait a moment, I'll take care of it."

He put the boy to sleep and healed the fracture - or, rather, the fractures, all four of them. It seemed that, for some reason, the boy's bones turned even more fragile... He could only believe that the procedure of increasing the bone density would help. Well, maybe it already had, since - as he assessed with his Devil Fruit - the fractures occurred only in the part that had yet to be reinforced. Then, maybe it was the last fracture that Rosapelo had ever had? he thought with a timid hope.

"What happened?" he asked when Rosapelo came to. "Did you fall?"

The boy shook his head. "They bumped in me in the corridor, and I hit the wall," he replied in that matter-of-fact voice of his, but then he added painfully, "Sorry..."

"There's no need to apologise," Law said, thinking it was him, rather, who should apologise, as he hadn't finished reinforcing the boy's skeleton yet. "But I feel like giving a piece of my mind to those bullies..."

"Come on, Law-san..." Rosapelo mumbled, embarrassed. "It was an accident... I don't even know them..."

"We keep telling the children that they didn't run in the corridors, but kids are just kids," the nurse interjected for the first time.

"Rosapelo has very weak bones," Law announced, looking at her reluctantly, as if it was all her fault. "In his case, practically every fall means a fracture. I've lost count of how many fractures he'd suffered from in the past two years," he added, and his eyes returned to the boy.

Rosapelo opened his mouth... and then closed it again.

"What? You can remember it?" Law asked.

The boy nodded.

"I think there's a lot more pleasant things to remember," Law said dryly, and Rosapelo lowered his head even more than before. "I'm taking you home. I bet you should finish soon anyway...?"

"In one hour... I still have maths."

"Then I'm definitely taking you home," Law announced in an exceedingly authoritative voice, remembering that maths wasn't Rosapelo's favourite subject.

The boy glanced at him - he'd probably got the hit - and Law smiled wryly before standing up. He waited that Rosapelo put on his shoes, then created ROOM once more and - without bidding the nurse goodbye - moved the two of them home. Upon their sudden arrival in the living-room, Tiger jumped out of the coach he'd been napping on and bristled, hissing in rage. Then, waving his tail angrily, he ran away upstairs.

"Are you all right?" Law asked as Rosapelo was still quiet.

"I'm fine," the boy replied. "But you should go back to work," he added in a lower voice. "Because of m-"

"Pelo," Law interrupted him. "Do you really consider me as someone who prioritises his work over his family?" Rosapelo shook his head. "Or maybe you'd like me to be that?"

The boy kept silent. Law realised he wasn't fair, asking such questions. He only wanted to provoke Rosapelo into some vivid reaction, for he didn't like that sadness and guilt... but when the boy only lowered his head, he remembered that his foster son never reacted with anger only with dejection.

He sighed. "Pelo," he said in a calm voice, putting one hand on his shoulder. "You wanted that they didn't inform me about you being hurt... I appreciate it that you don't wish to disturb my work, but have you thought about how I would feel upon learning about it only several hours later? How would I feel about you having broken your arm while I had no idea and didn't help you? Sure, you can say it wasn't the first fracture you had... that you can't die of it... but from my point of view it looks a bit different, for I feel awful whenever you're suffering. I really do, Pelo. I feel really bad about your suffering," he repeated with emphasis. "That's why I always come for you... come to you and help you. My work will never be more important than you."

Rosapelo, however, didn't seem consoled, and Law had no idea what to say in order to improve the boy's mood. Maybe only time could help here, he came to the conclusion that wasn't anything new. He patted his foster son on the shoulder to show him his support.

"Then, I'm off," he said. "I'll be back for dinner."

It seemed that at least mentioning the meal made Rosapelo's gaze become slightly more animated. Well, that was a good thing, Law thought before teleporting to the hospital. To the doctors that he'd left in consultation session, he explained he'd had an emergency, which was, actually, true.

When he returned home at seven, Rosapelo waited for him with a dinner. Maybe he wished to show that his arm was all right, or maybe he just wanted to ease his own - unnecessary - remorse... Law didn't ask the reason, only thanked him for having prepared the meal.

"Would you like to take a cooking course in the All Baratie?" he suggested as they were eating. "I'm sure Sanji would gladly accept you."

Rosapelo's hand froze mid-air between his mouth and the plate. "You don't like the food...?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"Of course I like it," Law replied at once before the boy plunged into guilt. 'Why must that kid regard everything in such a negative manner?' he thought in despair. "I just thought that you'd like to polish your skills under the professional guidance, since you're fond of cooking."

"It's not that I'm particularly fond of cooking," Rosapelo muttered. "But I think it's normal that someone cooks at home...? I have more time, so I can take care of it."

Law said nothing only kept eating, for he couldn't think of any good answer. Of course, Rosapelo interpreted even his silence as criticism, as he added the next moment, "But if you're of the opinion I should take that course, then I will. I want that you enjoy the meals..."

Law had no idea whether he should laugh or cry. He put the fork down. "Pelo, I _enjoy_ eating the meals you prepared," he said, striving to remain calm. "I'm such an odd creature that I like all kind of food except for bread and umeboshi, and I can't help it. But I don't want that you understand it as: it's all the same to me what I eat. I very much appreciate it that you prepare both breakfasts and dinners. Very much," he repeated with emphasis. "Until now, I didn't pay attention to my meals, but nowadays I always look forward to them." He smiled before getting serious again. "Pelo, can I ask you that you aren't so critical about yourself? I know, I'm not the best person to ask that, with this ever-rational approach of mine," he added with irony. "It just pains me that you consider my every word as a reproach... when you make me understand you consider me a man who only requires and demands and whom you should please..."

"I don't," Rosapelo interrupted him in a raised voice before fixing his eyes on his plate again. "I mean, Law-san... Sure I want to please you, but..." He turned silent.

"That's good to know," Law decided, "but I'm still under the impression you're scared that I send you away if you do something wrong. And I feel terrible about it, as I have no intention of doing that. I will never do it," he added emphatically. 'It's the opposite: my insides wrench at the very thought of losing you,' he thought. "I want you to be happy, here, in this house... That you do what you want, and live like you want. You're not my property, Pelo," he said in a serious voice. "Or maybe you'd like me to be more demanding?" he asked as it occurred to him suddenly. "Maybe you understand my attitude as... well, that it's all the same to me...?" he asked weakly.

Rosapelo looked up and observed him for a moment. "No," he replied in the end.

However, Law didn't feel convinced at all. "I have no experience," he said without thinking. "So it may be that I act not the way you wish me to..."

"Of course not," Rosapelo muttered in perplexity. "Don't stay that..."

"But it's true that I have no experience," Law repeated. 'I know only one way: to flood with love,' he thought distractedly. "So maybe it would be better if you told me how I should treat you... what it is that you expect of me..."

"I don't know!" Rosapelo replied at once, and his voice was somewhat desperate. "I can't...! It's not like I had a father before."

Silence fell. Law went completely speechless and was only staring at the boy, who, in turn, lowered his head so much that his fringe, cut short only three weeks ago, obscured even his nose. Law's heart was beating so fast it hurt... but this pain dissolved in a sweet sensation that surged up in his chest. He could only think how dear that boy was to him... and once again he was amazed at his own happiness that he hadn't even dreamt of. He didn't want to lose him, never, and never wanted to disappoint him. He wanted to give him everything he could, and protect him from any harm. More than anything, he cared about Rosapelo being happy.

Over the last two months, he should have got used to such moments of boundless affection that could overtake him unexpectedly, leaving him speechless and paralysed, he thought when he could again. But how was he supposed to move forward, ignoring the boy's words? Rosapelo had said almost directly he considered him a father...?

And the boy realised it, himself; his red ears, sticking from his hair, and his hidden eyes proved it. Law knew that any question on his part would embarrass the teenager even more, so he decided to leave it be this time... although more than anything he wanted to ask that Rosapelo confirmed that. 'Do you really think so? Say it again...!' was on his tongue, but he checked himself. It didn't belong to this conversation.

He remembered about the meal and grabbed the fork again; his hand was trembling just a little. "I suspect that, if anyone saw us now, they would consider us to be a pair of idiots," he muttered ironically. "But it fits: an idiot father and an idiot son," he added casually before shoving the portion of chicken and rice to his mouth.

Rosapelo glanced at him from under the fringe.

"Nah, we're not that bad yet," Law said, having swallowed the food. "Right?"

After a moment, Rosapelo nodded, and his lips twitched in the tiniest promise of smile. In the end, he didn't say anything only resumed eating, but he was no longer hunching like before, and his moves seemed more animated, which was more than enough for now.

Law's inner realist whispered it was only until the next time... but the optimist, showing himself more and more often recently, was glad that Rosapelo and he had overcome yet another obstacle. Undoubtedly, they would overcome the next one, and the next one, and it would be easier every time. For some reason, it wasn't hard to believe it.

* * *

It was the last day of May. Evening stock bloomed, filling the air with its intensive scent every night. Law was on his way home, wondering about what Rosapelo had prepared for dinner tonight. Sometimes he even felt bad about having such an indiscriminate palate, incapable of telling well made dish from average; if he hadn't, his compliments about the boy's culinary skills would be of much more significance. Unfortunately, his abilities were limited to noticing when the food was ovesalted or burnt; apart from that, everything tasted equally good. Well, there were probably worse things in life, he decided with irony, parking his bicycle by the gate, and entered the house.

Much to his surprise, the flat was dark and obviously empty. There was no meal on the table, and the kitchen didn't seem to been used today. Law felt anxious. "Pelo...?" he called, then activated the Ope Ope no Mi and learned that the boy wasn't there.

Per his request, Rosapelo never left outside when it was dark. It wasn't that Law considered him too young for solitary evening walks; in darkness, it was much easier to trip, and his treatment was still underway. Could it be that the boy had finally decided to rebel against his guardian and defy his order? Maybe it was only his vanity speaking, but Law thought it wasn't the case.

Something must have happened, he thought lucidly, although a nasty fear seemed to twist his insides. He didn't surrender to it, thought, for calm and composure had always been his strength and a key to success. He considered all options in a few seconds. At school? No, he would've been informed. On the way home? He had to check it. Surely not at home, for Tiger was lying on the couch in the living-room and nothing in his behaviour indicated that he'd witnessed kidnapping or any other act of violence. Maybe Rosapelo had simply gone to visit someone and lost track of time? Maybe Luffy's sons knew something? But he would've surely either left or sent a message to Law...?

He looked around the flat only to notice a sheet of paper on the table. It hadn't drawn his attention earlier, for he hadn't looked for it. He snatched it and unfolded, expecting the absence of his child to be explained. It was undoubtedly Rosapelo's handwriting - Law could recognise it, occasionally seeing the notes the boy made before shopping - but his relief vanished once he swept the content with his gaze. For a moment, he was under the impression his legs couldn't bear him any longer, and he slumped down in the couch, which Tiger commented with an enraged hiss. Law read the note - the letter - again, but the feeling it wasn't real wouldn't disappear.

_Law-san_

_It will be better if I leave. I only cause you trouble. I was really happy that I could live with you, but it's not right. Thank you for wanting to take care of me and everything you did. I wish you all the best, Law-san._

_Pelo_

_P.S. I'm sorry I didn't prepare the dinner today. And that I leave Tiger, but it's not like I could take anything with me._

Law was staring at those words that his eyes had clung to in some obsessive-compulsive need, running them up and down until he memorised them, every one resonating inside his head. For a moment, his mind was empty, but beyond emptiness was only an insane fear. He pressed his lips to stop a scream, then jumped up from the couch and into the room the boy currently occupied. It looked as if Rosapelo had left it to return soon; his things were in normal disorder: bag pack on the chair, books and notebooks on the desk, a jumper sticking from the wardrobe... But the letter indicated he would never be back... Never...!

'You can't do that to me, Pelo!' he called in his mind, returning to the living-room. The impression of losing consciousness any minute wouldn't recede, but he had to put himself together, for doing nothing was the worst option... right? He had to find him...! Even though one voice whispered that it was too late, paralysing him, he knew he mustn't listen to it...!

Listen.

He had to find Rosapelo. He could _hear_ his pulse, he certainly still remembered it...?! There was no other mean to find him... for instead of a dog that could sniff him out, they had only a cat, he thought hysterically. He activated the Ope Ope no Mi, covering first Roger Bay, and then the rest of Raftel. No matter how he focused, though, he couldn't locate Rosapelo. The only thing he could hear was his own insane heartbeat that he couldn't even calm down, for he had to preserve his strength - every tiny bit of energy - in case his child needed his Devil Fruit. He forbid himself from thinking that Rosapelo might never need the Ope Ope no Mi again... but the thought wouldn't leave him, obstinately pushing into his consciousness, especially now that he couldn't sense him anywhere...!

Maybe he wasn't concentrating enough. Or maybe it was impossible, even for Trafalgar Law, to pick up a single heartbeat from amongst ten thousands...? Maybe he should rather look out for the traces the Ope Ope no Mi had left? Except for himself, Rosapelo was the man that had experienced the healing effects of that particular Devil Fruit more than anyone; that must have left some trace in his organism...? Maybe those traces radiated some kind of energy, some special light, anything...? But that, too, didn't work, he still couldn't find his son...! He had to search for him normally, walk and call out for him, and ask everyone to help him...!

But, first, he would go to those who probably were the last people to see him... He clutched to that hope, they might know something... He teleported right inside Luffy's palace and, before surprised Hancock managed to open her mouth, he called, "It's an emergency, I must talk with Ace."

"Ace is not here," the wife of the Pirate King replied, looking at him closely. "He's on a cruise with Luffy. They left last week."

It was an unexpected blow. In addition to everything else, Straw Hat wasn't on Raftel either...?!

"In that case Zeno and Senti... maybe they know something...!"

Much to his disappointment, the two couldn't tell him anything more than that Rosapelo had been at school today, which didn't make any difference.

"What's happening?" Hancock asked, but Law didn't answer, only shook his head and teleported in the hospital, that seemed a safe haven now... the safest and the most reliable place in the world.

His first impulse was to go to Bepo, but his friend had a shift in the emergency unit, so Law couldn't involve him in his private problems. The next option occurred to him without thinking, too: Clione. The psychiatrist usually left from work around 6-7 PM, so he could be available now. Law knew that the head of the Seven lived in the block that housed staff members, situated slightly over the hospital and closer to the forest. Law had never been there, but fortunately there was a list of tenants by the front door, so two seconds later he was knocking on the door of the flat on the highest floor - probably louder he should, but pounding of his own heart deafened all other sounds - wondering what he would do if Clione wasn't there... Who was the next person he could turn to...?

Clione, however, was home, for the next moment the door was opened, revealing his figure in a house dress. "Law? Wha-?"

"Rosapelo disappeared," Law almost shouted, handing the psychitrist the crumpled paper he'd stuck to all that time. "He left me this and-"

'And I don't know what to do, so help me, damn it!' he wanted to add, but it didn't leave his lips. He clenched his fists so tight that the nails dug in the insides of his palms, but pain couldn't ease his fear even a bit.

Clione moved from the doorway, running the letter with his eyes, before looking at Law again. "It seems that your kid ran away from home," he said in a perfectly calm voice.

Law stared at him for the whole three seconds before he managed to speak again. "What...? Ran away from home...?" he repeated faintly.

"Come inside," Clione asked.

"But-"

"Come on, get inside. And now sit down."

"Clione, I have no time...! He may already-"

"It's not a suicide note, Law," the psychiatrist said, giving him a clear-headed look.

Law gaped at him again. One part of him wanted to object, but another wished nothing else but believe Clione's words. His heart was racing painfully in his chest, but some relief - hope? - sprouted inside him and demanded attention.

He slumped into the armchair and covered his face with his hands, trying to calm dawn; it seemed the most difficult thing in the world. "How do you know?" he muttered.

"It looks he was in a hurry, writing this," the psychiatrist pointed out. "As if he'd made a decision and wanted to realise it before he changed his mind or before you returned home. He left the note and ran away without taking anything with him."

"It doesn't prove anything," Law replied, moving one elbow on the armrest and pressing one hand to his forehead. He felt dizzy. "He could as well-"

"Law, he really would've written it differently if he'd wanted to kill himself," Clione assured him, and his voice was devoid of all those emotions that were now tearing Law, and Law almost held it against him. "Besides, it's obvious he's clearly concerned about you. And your... cat?"

"But those word, 'I can't take anything with me'...?" Law asked. He had no idea why he tried to prove Clione wrong so much... while, in fact, he only wanted all that was true...!

"Well, he probably decided that everything in the house is your property," the psychiatrist replied with a shrug and then sat down on the other armrest. "Law, this letter is full of emotions and feelings... No hopelessness of someone who can no longer see any other solution than dying. Besides, we know that he isn't someone to make rash decisions... not on such important matters anyway, right?"

Law said nothing. He still wasn't convinced... no matter how much he wanted it. But, then, why was he sitting here? Certainly not because, if Rosapelo... had done what Law feared, then it was much too late to go anywhere...? No, there was logic to Clione's words, logic that had escape Law himself, as he'd jumped straight to the worst option and wouldn't notice anything else. And if he left here now, he would turn into a bundle of nerves and panic fear, unable to think reasonably.

"When did you see him the last time?" the psychiatrist asked.

"This morning, during breakfast," Law mumbled without opening his eyes.

"How was he?"

"Like always. Then he left for school. And got there, I confirmed it."

"Did you quarrel recently?"

"That kid never quarrels with me, which is terrible, but he always take everything hard and worries about it, instead..." Law raised his head and frowned when yet another attack of anxiety froze his insides. "I think he _was_ quite down this week, but I didn't ask.. 'cause I don't want to always pepper him with questions, especially that it's always the same thing." He looked at the friend sitting next to him. "Do you think that-"

"No," came an immediate reply. "It seems that something happened outside home. Something that added to his feeling of guilt. He wrote about causing you a trouble..."

"Which is a rubbish, of course."

Clione nodded absently. "Something was tormenting him for a few days, maybe building up until he finally made a decision to leave," he speculated, either looking at the paper or raising his eyes. "Surely, he didn't want it; it's clear that he was happy to live with you... but he also felt guilty. Which is not so hard to understand."

"He fancies he disturbs my work," Law muttered reluctantly.

"He fancies he disturbs the work of Trafalgar Law, the greatest doctor in the world," Clione corrected. "It's a slightly different thing."

"Oh, I'm sorry for being the Trafalgar Law, not your average doctor," Law snorted, and Clione patted him on the head.

"We both know that, after what he'd gone through, Rosapelo has a low threshold of blaming himself for everything," the psychiatrist kept talking. "Two months is not enough to mend it. That's why things that may seem a rubbish to us, for him are the most real truth and swell far beyond natural size. But judging from what you told me... from his recent behaviour, the situation is different it was last winter. That time, his remorse made him lose sense of reality, fall into depression and psychosis... Now, however, he clearly is conscious about his own actions, even though what he does may seem unreasonable from our point of view. But for him, his feelings are real."

"I know that," Law said, annoyed.

"Besides, he's a teenager. At that age, every kid tends to exaggerate, and I guess he's not an exception," the psychiatrist added.

Law clenched his fists and then relaxed them. He took several deep breaths, trying to make his heart slow down. He still wasn't entirely certain... but what Clione had said, sounded convincing. The psychiatrist was a specialist, and his assessment could be trusted. Maybe Law was simply clutching at straws, but he didn't have anything else; believing it was much better option than imagining Rosapelo having done something bad to himself. Could it be that Law had overreacted? But how else could he have reacted to such a letter?! And after he'd seen with his own eyes the boy trying to commit a suicide just a couple of months ago? This situation... it was like his worst fear had come true: fear of losing Rosapelo, the man that had become more important than anything.

"Do you have any idea where he could go?" Clione's voice interrupted his thought.

Law brushed his face with his hands. Of course he had, now that he assumed that the boy was fine, he only had left. His heart clenched with a sudden longing. Fear was still lurking close, ready to jump him any moment, and Law knew that he wouldn't stop fearing about Rosapelo until he saw the boy was all right.

He got up. "I must bring him home," he said more to himself than Clione and teleported to the hospital the next second.

In half an hour, he moored the submarine in the Vokzel harbour, and then moved to the tenement house Rosapelo had lived in until recently. The flat belonged to the boy and was the only place he could go in this situation. Using ROOM for the last time, or so he hoped, Law shifted himself inside the flat without letting himself any doubts.

To his relief, the lights inside were on... and Rosapelo was sitting in the armchair by the window, hunched, with his legs pulled up and arms around his knees. Upon seeing Law, his eyes became wider from surprise, and then a grimace twisted his face: something between despair and joy, as if he were about either to cry or laugh. He rose, averted his eyes, but Law didn't wait longer, only went to him and embraced, and kept holding him without any wish to ever let him go. 'Don't leave,' he wanted to say, but his throat clenched.

"Law-san... how...?" Rosapelo mumbled, but Law only shook his head, his eyes still closed.

It was like deja vu, like the situation from several weeks ago when he'd been holding the boy in his arms, having almost lost him for ever. It was that mixture of tremendous relief, emotional shock, and particular fullness. Without Rosapelo, he felt incomplete, and something was missing... an empty place that couldn't be filled. Only when Rosapelo was by his side, that emptiness would vanish, replaced by the contentment that everything was like it should.

"Pelo, do you really hate me so much?" he asked softly once he was able to speak again. And when he started, the words just flowed and nothing could stop them, although he hadn't planned that speech and was now speaking out of his heart. He wouldn't stop even when Rosapelo tried to interrupt him, answer or relate to his words. "You really don't want to stay with me so much? You're a naughty boy, and I'll really get a heart attack if you do it again. Do you know how I felt when reading your letter? I was certain you were on the seabed or had killed yourself in some other way. I really was, and it was dreadful. No matter what reason you had, you can't do such things. If you have a problem, speak to me. That's why I'm here, that's why we share a home. There's no trouble that we can't solve together. Don't you get it that I care only about you staying with me? When you're not there, it's like the world ended. I don't know how many times should I say it so that you believe me, but that's how it is. You don't disturb me. You don't cause me any trouble... It's the opposite: I enjoy everything we experience together. Meals, walks, talks. Our daily life. I never expected anything of that kind to happen to me... and now I can't imagine it to end. But if you don't want it, just say it. Explain me why. Maybe I treat you badly, maybe it's only I who enjoys it, while you feel different and wish for another life. Tell me it so that I can understand... don't disappear, having left just a few words that may drive me crazy of fear. It's not fair, Pelo."

He opened his eyes and held the boy at the arms' length. Rosapelo lowered his gaze, and his expression was that of the deepest remorse. "I don't deserve it, Law-san..." he mumbled.

"We've already been through that," Law reminded him. "Besides... You can't do a thing about how I feel. And _I_ want you to stay with me, and it's not going to change, Pelo."

'Love is the most selfish feeling... for the loved one can do nothing about it,' he remembered the words he'd heard long ago. Now he knew it was really so.

Rosapelo shook his head helplessly. He stepped back and went to the coach that he then plumped in. Law turned to him. "You don't want to stay with me?" he asked.

"I do!" Rosapelo called in despair and annoyance, putting the elbows on his knees and his chin on his clasped hands.

"Then, what's the problem?" Law inquired, sitting next to him.

He suddenly realised the calm filling him, even though he'd just been a nervous wreck, unable to think of ever regaining his balance. Maybe it was because Rosapelo had answered like he'd answered. Or maybe because the boy was safe and sound, and alive, while just an hour ago Law couldn't be certain about it. Relief was a miraculous medicine to any negative emotion, and knowing that _everything was all right_ soothed better than the best sedative. Those both sensations made him strong... made him confident he could do anything, that there was no impossible thing for him.

Rosapelo stirred and turned his head to glance at him before looking down again. "I didn't want the message to sound like that. I didn't even think I could... I promised you...!" he said reprovingly, with hurt eyes, before his expression turned guilty again.

"And yet that is how I understood it," Law replied and was amazed at how even his voice was. "To me, every word indicated you'd decided... decided to kill yourself. It was a final goodbye. You even wrote you couldn't take anything with you... Well, that's obvious: you can't take any possession to the other side..."

"It's not what I meant!" Rosapelo groaned and clasped his head with his hands. "I meant that everything belonged to you..."

'Just like Clione said,' Law thought distractedly.

"I'm sorry, Law-san..." the boy muttered, and Law, on the spur of the moment, put one hand on his head and tousled his hair.

How easy it was to forgive when one loved. 'Parents forgive their children everything. No, they usually don't even think there's something to forgive,' he remembered another wise words he'd once heard from a wise man.

"That's okay," he muttered, taking back his hand. "But I'll really appreciate it if you don't do such thing again... I mean leaving me with such an unambiguous message. Now you must tell me what made you act that way."

Rosapelo hunched even more and didn't answer, which made Law continue, "You wrote you cause me only trouble. Aside from the fact nothing could be more far from truth that that, I'd like to know what you meant. Myself, I could think of it a whole week and still not understand it. I told you many times, and I'll gladly repeat - although normally I hate repeating myself - that there are only advantages of having you around, and no harm. You're pretty independent, take care of yourself, listen to me, don't fight and don't skip your lessons, clean and cook, do all housework... And you're a good kid that I enjoy talking to. I _really_ can't understand it how you should cause me a trouble, Pelo. Actually, I have quite another impression: you're so good that it scares me, and I wonder what should I do so that you start acting like a rascal that every teenage boy should be, if only a little."

Rosapelo looked at him askance, clearly in disbelief. "I don't want to be a rascal," he answered with dignity.

"Then, Straw Hat's kids won't have it easy..." Law muttered, rolling his eyes. "Tell me what happened. What is it that you took into your skull now...? By the way, we're still not done with your treatment," he pointed out.

Rosapelo averted his eyes and lowered his head again. He remained silent, and Law didn't urge him. In silence, he looked around the flat that was exactly as it had been the last time he'd visited here. A thin layer of dust was covering the furniture, and the clock on the chest of drawers showed the same time as before, no longer being winded. Only dried flowers had been removed from the windowsill, and the lighter spots on the wallpaper revealed where the pictures had once hung. It wasn't hard to imagine that Rosapelo, having arrived here today, had just sat down in the armchair and spent the next few hours there, thinking of his situation.

What could have tormented that boy to such an extent that he'd run away from home, breaking that wonderful daily life they shared? Was it only Law thinking how good everything was for them? The thought of being oblivious to something happening right under his nose... of assuming things that were real only in his head... It wasn't pleasant. He had to know, make sure it wasn't his fault...!

As Rosapelo still wouldn't say anything, he asked, "You said you wanted to stay with me, right...?"

The boy gave him a harassed look and nodded.

"You repeated it every time I asked," Law claimed. "Sometimes even without being asked. And now you take and run away from home. Did I do something wrong?"

"No...!"

"Do you want something from me that I don't give you?" Law kept guessing.

"Of course not."

"Then, what problem do you have with me?"

Rosapelo groaned. "I have no problem with you. I am the problem."

Law shook his head. "That way we could talk until morning... Is it about my work?"

Rosapelo pressed his lips in a thin line. Then, bingo. Law suppressed a sigh of frustration - did they really need to go over all that again? - but it was no use getting angry. At least, it wasn't about what had suddenly occurred to him upon trying to solve that contradiction - what could have caused it that the boy wanted to and couldn't be with him, at the same time? - that was, the idea that the feelings Rosapelo might had for him were somewhat different from filial and he found it unacceptable. Well, one could never be sure with the teenagers... Law didn't know where that idea had come from and immediately drove it away once it proved wrong. Fortunately.

As for the work, though... "I thought we've dealt with it already," he said in a resigned voice. "How many times should we talk about it? What should I do to convince you that you are not in a way of my professional duties?"

"But I am," the boy replied. "Because you started to live with me, you don't work as much as before."

"Pelo, it's terrible, but now you're repeating exactly the same words I used to repeat just a half year ago, myself," Law muttered, shaking his head. "That I had to work as much as I can. That I should spent my all time treating other people. Now I'm under the impression that my earlier beliefs somehow passed on from me to you, and it scares me, for they aren't right."

"But you _do_ have the Ope Ope no Mi. You _are_ the best doctor in the world," Rosapelo said in an unhappy voice. "Only you can treat those severely ill people that no-one else can help..."

"You can't feel guilty because of my work!" Law groaned in despair. "These are my decisions. Even the best doctor in the world has the right to live as he pleases, and I want to have my home with you. Objectively speaking, I don't even have any obligation to devote myself to treating people," he added reluctantly.

"But I do feel guilty...! The other day, you even came to my school, despite being busy in the hospital..."

"I'm getting angry," Law interrupted him, although he really wasn't. "Should I remind you it was _you_ who locked onto me... that time, some months ago...? You didn't want to have anything to do with anyone else, only me. That time, my work didn't seem to disturb you...?" he said with provocation that, of course, didn't work. The boy hunched, and Law added quickly, "Oh, Pelo, I don't think it was a bad thing! I'm sorry! Ah, on all sea kings, I don't know how to have this conversation..."

Rosapelo pulled his legs on the coach and wrapped his arms around his knees. Law felt like ruffling his hair out of hopelessness. He still believed they would deal with that problem - he would deal with anything, now that he knew that Rosapelo wanted to be with him - but he didn't know why yet... maybe because he couldn't really see it as a problem, in the first place, although it was such for the boy.

Still, he had to convince him somehow. He had to think of something, present him with some arguments that Rosapelo wouldn't be able to dismiss... arguments that would previl over any objection or doubt. Once again, he reminded himself that the boy's beliefs were real for him... but it didn't make anything easier.

Something Rosapelo had said bothered him... something about Law having come for him to school... A suspicion that sprouted in him made his stomach ache. "Someone teased you about me coming for you last week?" he asked cautiously.

The boy said nothing, only hunched even more, which was a sufficient answer. The unpleasant sensation in his chest surged when he realised what he'd feared had really happened. Then, Rosapelo had met some unpleasant things in school... and maybe even outside school, too, and only because Trafalgar Law had taken him in. Law remembered the uproar on Raftel when two months ago he'd decided to start living with the boy and limit the amount of his work. If most of the people was of the opinion he should focus only on working, then there was nothing strange that Rosapelo thought it too...

"Kids? Or the adults, too?"

"Kids," Rosapelo muttered.

'At least that,' Law consoled himself in thought. "Ace too?"

"Ace is off," the boy replied moodily.

"Right. If he were here, he wouldn't have allowed it... am I correct?"

Rosapelo said nothing; he nodded after a moment, though.

"Then, after my appearance at school when you broke your arm, the kids started to tease you about the best doctor in the world focusing on you instead of work... Something like that?"

The boy sniffed and nodded again.

"Tell them that if they keep talking that, they can forget about being ever admitted in the Corazon Memorial Hospital, even if they needed it one day."

Rosapelo looked at him in reprove. "You wouldn't do that," he mumbled.

"I guess not..." Law agreed, although he wasn't entirely sure. "But why must you listen to them, Pelo?"

"Because that's what I believe myself," Rosapelo said in a low voice, pressing his face to his knees again.

Well, that was the main problem here, one to be dealt with, Law remembered and started to think of reasonable argumentation... but arguing an obvious thing was hard... All of the sudden, he felt angry at those brats that had been harassing his boy. Unfortunately, there were many foolish people in the world, unable to look past the end of their noses and repeating cruel things without thinking they could hurt someone.

"But parents coming to school when their child got hurt is normal," he spoke after a moment, displeased. "I can't believe that, if that happens to anyone else, their mother or father wouldn't react because they are busy...? When a child is ill, parents stop doing everything else and want to get to their side as fast as possible to take care of them, help them... I can't understand why it shouldn't be that with you and me...? Even if I'm the best doctor in the world, no-one can't expect me to prioritise my work over my family...!"

Rosapelo turned his head and looked at him with one eye.

"What?" Law asked in a faked astonishment, but his heart was racing again, this time 'only' because of his excitement. "We are a family. Even if we're not related by blood... Does it really matter? It doesn't matter for me, Pelo," he said in a quiet, serious voice. "Maybe I'm not your biological father, but I consider you my child and I'm not going to give up on you. You don't think I took care of you for fun or because of my good heart, right...?"

Rosapelo slowly shook his head, then blinked a few times and looked away. "Though I still don't know why..." he uttered so softly he could barely be heard.

"Silly boy. Because I love you," Law replied and smiled, for such things should be said with a smile.

Rosapelo looked at him again, and this time he seemed entirely astonished, or even shocked. He opened his mouth, but before he managed to say anything Law continued, "If you're to keep asking why, then save it. Feelings can't be explained with logic," and now that he'd said it, he understood it was really so... and there had never been an answer to the question why Corazon had come to love such a monster like himself. He felt dizzy, but he focused on the present and went on, "However, feelings do explain everything else, show the way, govern one's action. They justify the decisions... No, they make it so that some decisions are the only right, even if the rest of the world thinks otherwise," he said with emphasis.

His heart clenched with longing but no pain anymore. He realised that what had once been the cause of his greatest suffering, now could simply warm him.

"I told you about the man who had saved me," he spoke after a moment. "Who abandoned everything else in order to help me. He had his work, his mission, his life... but he gave up on them without hesitation, for he decided that the most important thing was to take care of me. And you know what? All those years, I thought it wasn't worth it... that he should have stuck to what he'd had and never change it. That he shouldn't have done all that he'd done for me. But now I understand that he couldn't have done otherwise... and I appreciate it, for if he'd acted like everyone else, if he'd turned his back on me and abandoned me to my fate, then I wouldn't be here now. For the first time in my life, I'm truly happy that Cora-san had saved me. And it's thanks to you." He concentrated his sight on the boy next to him. "That's why I, too, want to place you above everything else. Nothing is more important than you, Pelo, and won't be."

Rosapelo blinked again before pressing his face to his knees.

"And if you start arguing with me, you'll break my heart," Law added, although he felt pretty happy inside. "But even that won't make me give up on you," he warned.

"It's not fair, Law-san..." Rosapelo mumbled.

"Love is the most selfish feeling," Law replied with satisfaction, but he felt obliged to admit, "I didn't come up with that myself. I just repeat what I was told once."

"So you think I can come home?" the boy asked quietly.

"And why do you think I told you all those embarrassing things?" Law snorted before tousling the teenager's hair again. "You can come home... but, actually, it would be the best if you also promised that you will never run away."

Rosapelo straightened, wiped his eyes and looked at him. "It's not like I wanted to go anywhere..." he said in a painful voice.

"I see, your legs carried you just like that..." Law muttered ironically.

"I'm sorry..."

"It would be good, too, if you stopped apologising for everything, Pelo."

The boy pressed his lips.

"Then, can you promise me that?" Law asked, reaching out his hand. "Do we have a deal? If anything troubles you, you'll talk with me about it instead of running away, okay?"

Rosapelo stared at his hand for a moment before taking and squeezing it. His fingers were trembling, but he'd made his decision, and Law felt like an enormous weight had been lifted from his heart. He smiled again. "I'm glad," he said truthfully.

Maybe he was being naive, but he wanted to believe that a certain chapter of problems was closed now. Surely, they would have to face other... but they would manage somehow. Together.

"Are we going back on Raftel?" he offered. "I'm pretty hungry, so-"

"Sorr-" Rosapelo started only to stop short under Law's glare.

"-so we can go straight to the All Baratie: Roger Bay and seal our deal," Law finished and got up.

The boy stared at him for a while with his intensely blue eyes, then nodded and said simply, "Let's go."

And Law felt that, by some miracle, he'd managed to gain yet another victory and once again ward off the danger. He hoped that he would be able to address Rosapelo's all doubts in future, too. Well, flooding with love was probably the key... but even if it weren't, he didn't intend to give it up.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

Finally, May turned to June. The weather was fine, and summer could be sensed in the air. Law finished to densify Rosapelo's bones, but they had to wait a bit longer to see the effect of that treatment. The boy bore it very well and didn't experience any adverse effects. Also, any falls and incidents were spared him - mostly because he was very careful about his movements - so, in general, the whole enterprise could be seen as successful, at least in regard to carrying it according to plan. And all credit went to Rosapelo himself. Law was greatly impressed by the teenager's self-control, strong will and ability - or, rather, readiness - to adapt to an uncomfortable situation, which he praised him for several times.

"It's no fun to be broken all the time," the boy once replied. "So, if there's a chance that it'll end, it's worth trying."

Another time, he commented, "I'm used to being ill... being unable to move like I want. It's nothing new to me, and now we're talking only about short period of time."

And even though the whole business was of an unpleasant nature, Law couldn't help but admired the approach his foster child had enabled. When the strengthening procedure was finished, he took Rosapelo to New Piece to celebrate... and maybe also thank him for co-operation. He'd never treated anyone for so long before, so he could imagine that a patient's attitude might be different; fortunately, Rosapelo was a very pleasant object of treatment.

"May I go back to my room?" the boy asked as they were eating a gourmet meal by Sanji.

"Sure," Law replied, rolling squid ink pasta on his fork. "You didn't like it downstairs?"

Rosapelo shook his head. "Nah... But room upstairs is more fun," he explained. "And may I attend P.E. already?" he kept asking, and there was even more hope and enthusiasm in his eyes.

"Well, if I were to choose, I'd rather you didn't return to playing and running until autumn," Law said openly, "but it's no point restricting your normal activity. After all, we performed that treatment so that you could move freely again, right? We must know if we get any benefit from that," he added in a critical manner. "I hope so."

"Me too," Rosapelo replied. "I'd feel bad if all your work came to naught, Law-san."

"You mean, all your effort," Law corrected. "I would feel worse, believe me. But, setting aside that competition of which of us would feel worse... You have no moving problems? I mean... I can tell you do greatly in normal daily activities, but playing and running is a different thing...?"

"The more I'll move, the faster I'll get used to it," the boy answered with a smile. "Don't worry, everything is fine."

Once again, Law was amazed by the life-force of a young organism. Only four months ago that boy had been suffered from very severe depression and hadn't wished anything else than dying, but then, once he'd decided to live, he'd started to recover at an impressive speed. Spring probably had contributed to it, although some credit had gone to Law, too. Suffice it to say that Rosapelo had needed quite little time not only to recover but also get stronger some extra, so much that he'd born with the physically demanding process of densifying his bones. In case of an adult, something like that would probably required years.

On the other hand, it was beyond doubt that the boy still mourned his mother. He often visited her grave - sometimes by his own, and sometimes with Law - and always returned from the cemetery quiet, thoughtful. They did one more trip to the flat on Vokzel, and Rosapelo brought a photo album; he placed one picture, of his mother when still young, in a frame and on his desk. Law never spoke of her death, for questions like 'Do you miss her?' were pointless, and they would talk about Mrs Irma only when the boy touched the topic, which meant almost never. Law wondered what he could do to ease his sorrow, but he usually came with the same answer: nothing. He had to let time heal the wounds; there was no other option. He could only support Rosapelo, staying by his side and providing him with the safe place for that process.

In fact, he wasn't really that amazed by the boy's fast recovery. He remembered himself when of Rosapelo's age, and how fast he'd got on his feet after many years of suffering from the Amber Lead Syndrome, after tragedies that had befallen him, and after loss of beloved people. It had been hard to regain the joy of living - in fact, he'd never regained it - but once he'd found a goal to motivate him, once he'd made his decision to keep living, it hadn't taken long to get his strength back. Still, in the retrospect, he could tell that, contrary to his body, his psyche had never recovered. His only success had been retaining his sanity - after what he'd experienced, going mad would be understandable and even probable - but nothing else. He'd spent the rest of his adolescence and whole adulthood as an emotionally disabled person... Some months ago he'd decided to do everything in his might to save Rosapelo from the same fate, and it seemed he must have done something right.

That the boy had regained his mental health was obvious. In just two months since Law had taken him in, one could clearly say that his reactions were natural and his behaviour was more confident. The level of his anxiety had lowered, and Law hoped that Rosapelo had come to believe in the change that had happened, and especially that it would stay as it was. At least, he hadn't run away any more, as if he'd accepted that new situation and his daily life with Law. Law suspected that the boy might still experience bad treatment or unfriendly remarks, but he seemed to have decided he wouldn't let them influence his choices and actions nonetheless. Law didn't intend to intercede in any way, for it wasn't his habit; he knew that the best thing to do was to wait it out instead of drawing more attention. Sooner or later, people would get used to Rosapelo being Trafalgar Law's family and it would stop stirring negative emotions. Sometimes he asked the boy about any unpleasant comments, but the answer was always, 'I don't let it bother myself,' and everything indicated it was really so.

Law had once heard - he didn't remember where - that being loved gave a person strength, while loving someone gave courage. This particular time of his life he came to the conclusion he actually could agree with that statement, albeit with some reservations.

Himself, he'd been constantly in the state bordering euphoria; that was what Rosapelo's presence did to him. The world was moving forward with its problems, big and small, and the work continued like before: difficult medical cases, hospital administration, sometimes some unexpected events mobilising the whole personnel - and yet Law was under the impression he would never feel bad again. No, he felt he would always be happy. Every morning, he waked up full of energy, and he went to bed every night filled with joy. In last months, he'd probably smiled more than he had during the previous decade. And he accepted it without thinking, without marvelling at the fact it'd required so little - a few weeks - for his way of being to change so much. Maybe he even, which would have been completely out of question before, told himself that after a quarter of century of despondency, of hopelessness and deeply hidden despair - of life that hadn't been far from vegetation, in many respects - he finally deserved some happiness...?

And the longer that state continued, the more he wished that it never ceased. After twenty-six years of remorse and walking with barely closed wounds, now he was under the impression that all those empty places in his soul, even those darkest ones, had been filled with light and everything that had been sick and painful, had healed. It was a strange feeling that he'd never imagined, and now he wouldn't wish to lose it for the world. This warmth that had settled into his heart for good, made him stronger and confident that everything would be just fine, that he would handle any problem - or, rather, they would: Rosapelo and he. That rational part of his mind that had played the first fiddle for the most of his life, was now silent, maybe accepting that strength. After all, was there any danger in believing that...?

With every day passing, he became more and more attached to Rosapelo. He discovered ever more new character traits in his protégée, funny habits and unusual beliefs, all that completing the picture of the boy he admired fully and who seemed a real marvel to him. Sometimes he wondered how that could be possible; how Trafalgar Law, a critical and demanding man, could become so enchanted by another person? Maybe it was all about seeing and accepting the whole instead of dissecting. When one regarded another man through the prism of their virtues and faults, then it was easy to label. Yet, it was the opposite when one first saw the other as one and only later contemplated their virtues and faults; they would just turn into the person's integral elements.

Of course, Law was of the opinion that Rosapelo was the most adorable and flawless being in the world, although he kept that view a secret and never intended to share with anyone.

In any case, Rosapelo had turned his life - on a psychological level - into a constant idyll. The affection he had for the boy, was reflected in every interaction and only got strengthened in a feedback. Now, would anyone sane want to part with someone who made them feel only good? Whenever he realised it, a thought would occur to him - first very shy, just a question, but gaining strength and confidence as time passed - that maybe that was the way Cora-san had felt when staying with Law. For many years, Law had believed that his late guardian had acted on his sense of duty and conscience, and maybe an urge to defy Doflamingo, but now he slowly started to consider another option: that Cora-san might have _enjoyed_ the time they had spent together and Law's presence had made him happy. Even if his rational part tried to remind him that Rosapelo and himself were different cases, he knew well that Corazon had never seen any evil in him, only a child that had deserved compassion. And if he'd really loved him - now it was easier to believe it, to accept love as the driving force behind Corazon's actions - then it was almost natural to assume that he'd felt happy when with Law. That, just like he was enchanted by Rosapelo, Cora-san had been enchanted by him. Was it too outrageous to consider it...?

When Law moved even further in his reasoning - and comparing - he encountered another idea: that his person may have brought some new quality into Cora-san's life, something his guardian hadn't had until then. Even though Corazon seemed an angel and unconditional love incarnated, he hadn't - as far as Law knew - travelled the world and bestowed that love on every person. Quite the contrary, he'd carried out a deadly mission by his brother-monster's side, pretending to be exactly the same and never showing his humanity. A sinister, insane and unpredictable figure that everyone should be cautious around. A pirate and a gangster, a cruel and powerful freak - that was how Law had seen him before learning the truth. Now, as an adult, he could imagine that staying with enemies - with people that had been only repulsive - must have burdened Corazon's psyche a great deal. Law had spent only two years in the Donquixote Family, and yet he'd soaked their evil up down to his fingertips, albeit on his own will. Rosinante, who'd been there only as a spy, must have constantly fought that repulsion and contempt - for them and for himself, for having entered that game - for much longer. One thing was as obvious to Law as his own name: Cora-san couldn't be happy when staying in the Family, and his only comfort had been that he had been doing _the right thing._

When Law - the boy whom Corazon had come to love - had entered his reality, it must have been like the sun had risen after centuries of darkness. Now Law could tell the difference: he knew how it felt when one acted on love, not duty. Sense of duty was cold, but love filled with warmth. And Cora-san's smile had been full of warmth, and nothing else, just like his sight and his tears. Warmth had been in his hugs and gestures, in _everything_ he'd done for Law. Could Law assume - he didn't need to believe it right away - that it was him who had made Cora-san feel something good, after years of fighting evil and corruption that had attacked him from all sides...? After years of staying in darkness, he could finally shine with light he'd desired and longed for all that time...? Could Law believe that, instead of bringing harm, he'd given him something precious and irreplaceable... something Cora-san would've never give up willingly...? It wasn't easy to accept such truth - that Trafalgar D. Water Law may have been a cause of someone's boundless happiness - but when he looked at Rosapelo and realised how much that boy had changed his inner world, then he was able at least question the beliefs he'd lived by for over quarter of a century. And it filled him with relief, made him think it was more right, for he was finally doing justice to Cora-san.

To be honest, the thought _he_ may have done something good for _Cora-san_ was intoxicating, but it would have never occurred to him if not for Rosapelo. So, he had one reason more to love that boy... though, in fact, he needed none, and it was the best thing here.

Having that said, every now and then life would remind him that the idyll wouldn't last forever and that having children involved also those moments when one felt like tearing out his hair, raging and swearing, and so on... Fortunately, in this particular case, such moments were rather rare, and he could only hope that tendency would last.

In late-June, as the summer holidays drew near, Law returned home for dinner, only to find his foster son all bruised. It hadn't prevented the boy from preparing the meal, just like always, but he generally seemed to be aching all over. It didn't look like an effect of football training. (It was worth mentioning that Rosapelo hadn't had a single fracture since the last treatment). For the first time in his life, Law thought that even this home - home of the greatest doctor in the world - could have a packet of analgetics. Better late than not at all, he thought ironically, promising to fix that oversight tonight.

"What happened?" he asked with a perfect calm as they sat down to the table in the dining-room. He realised that, regardless of Rosapelo's certain protest, the school would have notified him if anything serious occurred, and only that kept in check his anxiety. "You finally decided to become a rascal and started to get into fights?"

The boy glared at him, like he used to whenever Law used the word 'rascal' referring to him, but then he turned moody and lowered his head. "Nah..." he muttered.

"It doesn't seem you fell down the stairs, or spaced out and hit the goalpost," Law noticed casually. "So, what did you get yourself into?"

Rosapelo started to peck at the content of his plate, and Law didn't urge him to talk; he started to eat himself, occasionally glancing at his foster child. He had no doubt that Rosapelo would tell him everything, for there was that miraculous bond of trust between the two of them, one that didn't happen to _all_ parents and children, or so it seemed to him.

"Actually, it... was a fight," Rosapelo muttered in the end, but then he raised his head and looked him in the eye. "But it's not like I provoked it," he declared... only to add in a less confidence voice, "I think."

Law pressed his lips together, for suddenly he felt like smiling, which wouldn't be proper during this serious conversation. "You think... Then, what exactly happened?" he repeated his question, for he still knew next to nothing.

"Well, there's that kid in our class, he'd the smallest and often gets bullied," Rosapelo blurted out, and Law thought he could guess the rest. "Usually no-one can do anything 'cause Ace keeps an order and everyone knows it's better to not mess with him... Of course, Ace is the strongest," he added quickly, as if he'd felt obliged to mention that. "But Ace is still off, and... Today some guys ganged together and forced the kid in the changing room to torment him a bit after the school. So..." He paused and lowered his head.

"So you stood up to them to protect the kid," Law finished the sentence.

Rosapelo nodded; he still seemed down. Law felt like sighing. On the one hand, he felt proud of his son, whose capacity of empathy was perfectly okay, but on the other hand... He remembered the words he'd once heard, 'A parent sometimes would rather have their child live in shame than die for ideals'. Yeah, he could understand it.

"You did a proper thing," he said, though, for he couldn't say anything else. "What about that kid? Was he hurt?"

"Far from it. He ran away the moment they changed the object of their interest."

Law laughed, and Rosapelo looked at him again. After a moment, his lips twitched, too.

"Have they beaten you up badly?"

Rosapelo shrugged. "Nah, just a bit, they quickly got bored. One said, 'It's no point in getting tired. His daddy is going to put him together in one moment anyway,' so they stopped and left."

"They were at least as smart," Law agreed, happy that the colleagues of his son either lacked imagination or weren't bad enough to understand that every man could be beaten into such a condition that even miracle-doctor wouldn't help. He quickly drove away that reflection, though. "Although it would be better if they thought that 'your daddy' might turn them away from the hospital one day when they might need the Ope Ope no Mi..." he muttered and, before the boy said the familiar remark, 'You wouldn't do that', he added, "Are bruises all you got? You're moving normally, so... No fractures?"

Rosapelo raised his head and straightened up. "No fractures," he said, and his eyes flashed.

"That sounds good," Law replied, although he still didn't want to allow himself hope. "Once we've eaten, I'm going to scan and fix you."

"It sounded like I were some device," Rosapelo muttered with faked indignation; he'd clearly brightened up. "Besides, I don't think there's any need to use the Ope Ope no Mi... It'll hurt a bit and then stop."

"True, but if you go to school tomorrow when still bruised, those rogues will see that I didn't 'put you together' after all, and that could prompt them to keep doing their nasty business," Law pointed out, waving his fork. "You must be like new, that's beyond doubt."

"Fiiine..."

For a moment, they talked about what to do so that no-one bullied anyone, but the only conclusion they reached was that the relationships amongst the kids should be improved, so that no-one was left alone. The method 'become powerful and control others' wasn't proper in case of the normal people, and Rosapelo and his friends could be counted as ones... at least everyone except Ace.

During the conversation, Rosapelo had got his appetite back; he ate the content of his plate and a second helping. "Law-san... did you fight at school?" he asked as they continued eating.

"Me? By no means," Law replied. "I was an honours student who thought only about learning. Fortunately, the school I attended had only such kids, so no-one found it strange," he explained with a crooked smile that faded right away. "But later... I had to learn how to fight... and seriously, to hurt the enemy," he muttered. "By the time I was twelve, I had such fighting skills that I could ki-... I could defeat a full-grown man," he added in a lower voice and shoved another portion of food into his mouth. "No kid should know such things," he said, having swallowed.

Rosapelo looked at him closely. "But thanks to that you survived," he said after a moment. "And you became one of the most powerful pirates... right?"

Law shrugged. Frankly, he didn't want to reminisce the time he'd been a pirate. Not that he was ashamed of it... he just didn't see it as something to brag about, not to his own kid anyway. "Says who?" he asked.

"Ace," came the immediate answer.

Right, Law could have guessed himself who was Rosapelo's main source of information. Fortunately, Ace had been born after Law had stopped doing what he'd done until coming to Raftel, so it was only from Luffy the boy could learn about those times. Law decided to make Rosapelo aware of it. "You know, Ace only repeats what he was told... and his father is known for exaggerating things," he muttered. "You shouldn't believe all he says."

"Then, tell me about it yourself," Rosapelo said without hesitating, and his eyes were shining. "That way there will be no misunderstanding."

Law gave him a reproving look. "Why would you like to know? Those are old times I'd rather not recall..."

"But you travelled the whole world," Rosapelo wasn't giving up. "You must have seen so many interesting places... that I can only dream of," he added with some longing that made Law immediately decide he would help his kid travel as much as the boy wished to. "I'd love to hear about them..."

"You know, we sailed in a _submarine_... It's not like I saw many places..." Law tried to wiggle out of answering.

"Hey, I'm not as stupid as to believe that," Rosapelo saw through him right away. "You must have come up on land, even though you sailed underwater. Besides, it's not like the sailors on the normal ships can tell much about the cruise itself, right? Sea is the same, whether you see it over the surface or under it," he noticed lucidly.

Once again, Law caught himself thinking he's son was a bright kid. And, of course, it was always a nice realisation that could influence his approach. "Well, maybe I could give you our logs to read..." he said distractedly before focusing his eyes on the boy, who was clearly excited by that offer. "But where does that interest came from? You don't plan to become a pirate, do you?" he asked with a suspicion.

"Of course I do!" Rosapelo replied, and Law almost got a heart attack before he remembered that nowadays the word 'pirate' had a different meaning. "I'd love to read those logs, thank you!"

Law ground his teeth, although all critical remarks and objections somehow paled when put against the boy's happiness. "I'll be very grateful if you consider your career choice a bit more, could you...?" he muttered. As Rosapelo kept staring at him with burning eyes, he added with a complete surrender, "As for the logs... I'll try to find them... I think I know where to look for them." He suspected they were in one of the hospital storage rooms, for where else...? "But don't get your hopes too high. I was never a passionate writer. As I remember, I wrote down only dry facts..."

The fork dropped from Rosapelo's hand and clinked on the table as the boy stared at him as if Law had just grown another head. His eyes turned round like balls, and he went speechless for a longer while, forgetting to close his mouth. For some reason, he was utterly shocked.

"What?" Law asked, getting confused as the silence prolonged.

"Those are _your_ logs?" his son asked faintly.

"Um... yeah? Who's else?"

"You were a captain?!"

Now it was Law's turn to stare at the boy in stupefaction and frown. "I never mentioned it?" he uttered in the end, running frantically in thought through their conversations.

Rosapelo shook his head, and his gaze became ever more ecstatic.

Law moaned. "Impossible... Then, what were we talking about all that time?"

Rosapelo, however, didn't seem to be thrown off balance as much as he was, for he only shrugged. "You told me you'd been in the Heart Pirates crew," he informed with a smile. "Ace didn't mentioned about you having been a captain, either," he added with some reproach. "He only said you'd been his father's ally and friend and helped him reach Raftel and gain the One Piece. And that you'd been one of the most powerful pirates of all times. But they don't write about you in the history books..."

"And I'm grateful to all sea gods for that. It's enough that they write about me in the medical books," Law declared, getting his confidence back.

"Well, it's only logical you were a captain," Rosapelo said as if he hadn't heard him at all, his voice still inspired. "Who else could be? I don't know why I didn't think of it, I feel foolish..."

"Pelo, those are really old times... It no longer matters," Law muttered, rubbing his forehead, for he felt stupid under that admiring gaze of the boy. "Ah, I must go," he remembered, and he probably hadn't felt so relieved about it ever before.

Rosapelo nodded, smiling. He was still in a trance of exaltation and excitation that nothing couldn't disturb now. Law suppressed a sigh and got up, although he realised, with some part of his mind, the whole situation was comical... even though it had resulted from less funny things, as he remembered.

"Damn it, we only talked, and I was supposed to fix you after your fight. Come here... Will you manage without anaesthesia?"

"Sure."

As promised, Rosapelo didn't made any sound when Law took care of his bruises and soon appeared to be as new. A quick scan of his bones revealed that he had no fractures indeed. It really gave hope that the treatment had the expected result. Law didn't wish for anything else.

"Then, I'm off," he said, deactivating the Ope Ope no Mi and putting on his shoes.

"Don't forget the logs," Rosapelo reminded him casually, cleaning the table.

"What? You expect me to bring them tonight?" Law asked with a faked despair.

"I can't wait," the boy replied with a radiant smile.

* * *

July started, as did the summer holidays. Law caught himself considering the idea of a leave that Bepo had suggested, but in the end he didn't decided on such a revolutionary move. It was enough that he already worked much less than before, which almost filled him with remorse. What was strange, however, his co-workers didn't seem to hold it against him; quite the contrary, they made him understand that starting a family was one of the best decisions he'd ever made, even better than starting the Corazon Memorial Hospital...

They also seemed to like Rosapelo very much. Bepo often asked about him and sometimes came to visit, just like Shachi and Penguin, who - once they learned it interested him - would more than willingly tell the boy about the adventures they'd experienced as the Heart Pirates. Ikkaku and Kaya, as if they'd colluded, tried to drag Law into conversations about bringing up the children during lunch breaks, and occasionally gave him small gifts for his son. Only Clione currently stood out of the picture; they would see each other only during Law's 'psychiatric days', but they stopped eating the dinner together. Sometimes, Law wondered why their relation had changed - a silent yet distinct voice in his mind would suggest, 'Maybe he's done with you...?' - but then he remembered that was how their contacts had been for years, only the events of the last winter had caused the untypical intensifying. He guessed he would be concerned about it if the situation had been different; however, he had too good mood to let it get to him now.

Currently, his main concern was that the media had taken interest in Rosapelo for good. First, it was only about the local journalists, but as the time passed, the reporters of the global newspapers started to come to Raftel. In just a few weeks, Law spotted several unfamiliar individuals with cameras and notes, one of them going so far as to climb the tree growing right outside their land, that he could see into the windows upstairs from. Those 'special watchers' were shamblesed one by one to the fountain in the plaza of Roger Bay and soon learned at least as much as they shouldn't come near Trafalgar Law's house. Still, Law couldn't do a thing about what happened when he was at work and how much the reporters bothered Rosapelo.

It appeared, however, that his son wasn't a cowed kid that let others get over on him, and he seemed to find it satisfying how he dealt with the journalists.

"It usually happens in line with a certain pattern. A person comes, introduces themselves and tells who is their employer," he told one day when Law asked him about it. "Then he or she asks if it's true that I live with you. I answer it is, and add that you forbade me to talk with the journalist. Usually, that person shows he or she is disappointed, but they try to make me answer a few questions anyway... convince me that I should really trust them. Then I show I'm shocked by the very offer and say I can't defy the order of the man whose care I am in. Most of the times, the journalists find that argument rightful, but I'm afraid, Law-san, that you're going to be seen as a strict and demanding parent..." he added in a troubled voice, although it didn't seem very sincere with the general tone of his statement.

"And it should be like that," Law declared as he really didn't have anything against that. "No-one should expect the 'Surgeon of Death' to be gentle and understanding..."

"Surgeon of Death?" Rosapelo picked up, and his eyes flashed with excitement again. "That's what you were called?"

Law sighed inwardly. On the one hand he was glad that his kid could show others his interest, but on the other hand he feared that Rosapelo turned obsessed... And he was probably right, for when he muttered, 'Mhm', the boy said slowly, "And you say that the medical books write about you...? Which of them?"

"Pelo, have you decided to become a doctor, not a pirate, after all?"

"I still have time to consider all the options," Rosapelo replied with a faked seriousness.

Law laughed. The boy's sense of humour gladdened him more than anything.

Because he didn't take a summer leave and it was pointless that Rosapelo stayed home alone, Law arranged it that the boy spent a couple of days with the befriended families. It started with Kaya and Usopp, then he was taken by Shachi and then Penguin, and in the end by Ikkaku. At first, Rosapelo didn't want to go anywhere, and he even went as far as asking, 'Who's going to cook for you, Law-san, when I'm not here?' which probably resulted from his concern and not his conceit, but in the end he consented to that solution, especially that he would come home for the weekends. Law didn't worry about him, for the boy had managed to get used to contacts with people, even though he still showed some reservation and Law was the only one he was fully open with. However, he easily found a common language with other children and was more than willing to play football with them; as he was thirteen already, he quickly became a real authority for the younger ones. Law wouldn't particularly inquire about it, but his co-workers gladly disclosed that their kids just loved Rosapelo. Of course, he wouldn't admit it to anyone he liked hearing it.

Taking advantage of his kid being elsewhere, Law did voluntary shifts in the hospital. Well, he used to do it every summer anyway, when his employees went on leaves en masse. As a desired workplace, the Corazon Memorial Hospital was the undisputed leader - for many years now, it had been on the very top of all global rankings formed by both health care professionals and students - which meant that they were never short of people willing to come for replacement, but Law was of the opinion that the seasonal employers required more attention than permanent staff. Moreover, summer was time with a shortage of specialist on the wards, and the residents had to manage more or less independently, so it was a good idea that the director offered them his support. After all, the amount of patients didn't change depending on the time of year.

Summer on Raftel was usually beautiful, although July was marked by the greatest precipitation. This year the weather didn't spare them a violent torrential rain either; it lasted a few days and caused several slight floods. Like always by such occasions, people wondered aloud why their island - the Pirate King's island, after all - was subjected to the elements just like all others, even though the former navigator of the Straw Hats could control the weather. Nami, however, had long ago delivered her opinion that manipulating the nature would always backfire. People had to comfort themselves that at least they had a genius engineer and constructor at their disposal, and he was always eager to help with removing the effects of disasters.

Belatedly, Law learned that, when staying in Kaya and Usopp's place, Rosapelo had become one of Franky's helpers this year. At first, he wanted to scold him for doing things he had no idea about and risking an injury; however, as no harm had happened to the boy - quite the contrary, it had given him clearly positive impressions - he spared Rosapelo a lecture. His son proudly informed him that the cyborg had praised his technical abilities, and Law had no heart to spoil his joy. He only commented ironically that Rosapelo probably considered a career of constructor now, but the naughty boy replied, 'You never know', and proceeded to inquiring him about the technical details of the Heart Pirates submarine. Law told himself he would support his son in every choice, whatever it might be. What he considered the most important thing, however, was that Rosapelo stayed healthy, which, unfortunately, wasn't so obvious in his case, and despite having the greatest doctor in the world for a father.

July, too, passed without accidents and fractures, despite Rosapelo spending it actively - except for exercise by Franky's, he also happily played football - and it seemed more and more certain that his treatment had paid off. The boy happened to fall twice, but all he got was a couple of bruises, which meant his bones were _really_ stronger. Law wanted to believe that the phase of fractures was past Rosapelo, but he still couldn't give in to joy or congratulate himself on the success. Unfortunately, it appeared he'd been right.

In August, Rosapelo began to grow. Football boots he'd been using for a longer while, suddenly became too tight, and his trousers appeared too short, just as the sleeves of shirts and jumpers. In just a three months, he became eight centimetres taller, and it seemed that such a growth rate would continue. Also, Law discovered that Rosapelo would probably be a tall man; in the photo album, they found one picture showing his father's height. It had been taken shortly after the boy had been born: both parents were standing, with the mother keeping the baby in her arms. Law remembered that Mrs Irma was some one hundred and seventy centimetres, which meant that asshole her husband must have been well over two metres, judging from the difference. It didn't bode well for Rosapelo in the next few years, but it was pointless to think of years as the problems descended on them now.

A rapid growth was a great tragedy for the boy's bones. First, for all his fantastic coordination, such a violent acceleration in growing speed made it much harder for him to control the movements of his body, which resulted in more frequent losses of balance and falls. Second, it seemed that the density of his bones, having been increased by Law's surgeries only recently, diminished again when the tissue had been 'stretched'. Both things led to recurrence of fractures, and Law felt like swearing and cursing.

When the summer holidays ended, not a single week passed without Rosapelo returning home with a broken arm or Law being called to school in the middle of the day to heal a leg fracture. It also happened, twice, that the boy landed in the casualty department, like when rib fracture caused a lung injury and pneumothorax. Law was operating and learned about everything two hours later. Nothing serious happened as Bepo tended to Rosapelo at once, and when Law teleported on the emergency ward, he found his son in a good condition and emanating a 'I'm all right' attitude.

Rosapelo always said he was all right and that there was no need to worry, and Law every time replied that he hadn't been wrong about his choice of profession after all, but, in fact, neither of them felt like joking. They both felt terrible and blamed only themselves for the state of things.

The PE teacher requested that the headmaster excluded Rosapelo from sporting activities including football, and got an approval. The school authorities feared - which was reasonable - that sooner or later an irreparable tragedy would occur, and didn't want to be held responsible for that. For Rosapelo, who loved physical activity, that decision came as a blow. In addition to his dejection resulting from constantly - as he believed it - giving Law trouble, he was forbidden to play his beloved football. Moreover, the kids started to tease him again - this time, laughing at him for having a father who couldn't cure him once and for all, despite being the best doctor in the world - which definitely couldn't rise his spirit. Law was scared of Rosapelo getting depressed again, and did all he could to comfort him and sustain his faith in being cured one day. And he showed nothing of what was happening inside him.

Deep inside, he was furious, dejected and helpless. He was mad at himself for being unable to help his kid and making him suffer. Even if Rosapelo bore his situation very bravely and made light of his ailment, Law knew that fracture hurt like hell. He felt awful, but no matter how many times he examined the boy, he couldn't find any pathological process in his organism, one he would be able to cure with his Devil Fruit.

Yet the feelings of rage, shame and dejection paled in comparison with the terror that would strike him more and more often at the thought Rosapelo might get seriously injured and Law wouldn't be available to save him. The Ope Ope no Mi couldn't bring anyone back; it could only help the living. Whenever Law realised he could _lose_ Rosapelo due to some accident, he felt horribly cold and was under the impression his lungs couldn't get air. It took a while to calm down his racing heart and gather chaotic thoughts, to turn that fear into cold determination. No, he would never let anyone take his dear person away again, even if he had to lock the boy home or keep him close day and night. Above all, however, he had to find a _medical_ way to help him. In the end, he repeated the procedure from before, aware it was more an emergency treatment than anything else now. Rosapelo stopped break himself _weekly_, but it still happened, and often enough to distress Law. Such was the price of attachment.

Despite everything, those happy moments were much more often than sad ones, and Law didn't regret his decision to take care of Rosapelo, not even once. Living and sharing his time with the boy filled him with happiness. Half a year passed in a flash, and, as autumn came, Law wondered how he'd managed to live alone, earlier. Rosapelo's presence was complementing him and made him satisfied, as if some place had been filled, place that had been empty for many years and Law hadn't even known it. As for Rosapelo himself, spending time with him was a pure pleasure and joy. The boy was getting more bolder and uninhibited in contact with other people. He was a good discussion partner, although he preferred to listen even more. He did well in school and was curious of the world, absorbing knowledge like a sponge. He didn't lack sense of humour and distance to himself, although he also could stick to his guns; however, he always listened to Law and never went against his will. He tended to their home as if he'd been doing it ever since, and developed his cooking skills.

On Law's birthday, the boy prepared a splendid multi-course meal, almost moving Law to tears. Well, the cake didn't come out right as the young cook had got the proportions of flour and soda wrong, and the fish appeared to consist mostly of bones and wasn't edible, unless one decided to risk an oesophagus injury, but there was plenty of delicacies, and those minor shortcomings could be as well ignored. Rosapelo swore that no-one had assisted him in cooking and baking, but he confessed that he'd got the dessert recipe - two-layered jelly with cream - from Sanji, which filled Law with even greater awe. If a thirteen-year-old could prepare a dish according to the recipe by the best chef in the world, it undoubtedly called for recognition.

Maybe it was about the fact that this year October 6 fell on Sunday, and thus he was spared the whole hospital comedy - Law didn't know, but for the first time since childhood he decided his birthday was decent and he enjoyed it. He even thought with a rare sentimentalism that it'd been worth to live forty years to see it.

"I hope that in forty years we'll celebrate it, too," he said aloud and immediately got embarrassed.

Rosapelo, however, beamed like a sun. "I think that by that time, Law-san, I'll have mastered my skills and be able to prepare a real feast for you," he replied with humour.

And Law left unsaid the remark that in his opinion today's meal could definitely be called as such.

* * *

It was mid-November, when Sengoku-san unexpectedly called... and Law caught himself realising that, for the first time in the last twenty-six years, he'd forgotten all about the meaning of November. "Has anything happened?" he asked, trying to overcome the sudden feeling of guilt, and focus on the conversation.

"Actually, it has... It's stupid, but I won't be able to come this year," the former fleet admiral announced, and his voice indicated he wasn't happy about it indeed. "Two days ago I broke my leg," he informed grumpily.

"You too?" Law said without thinking. "I mean... Are you all right, Sengoku-san?" he asked, although the very fact the old man had called indicated that nothing serious happened.

"Sure I am," Sengoku assured him. "But what was that question? You haven't broke yourself anything, have you?"

"No, I just... have a patient with recurrent fractures, and it seems to me that recently I've been only putting the bones together," Law muttered. "How did it happened? You didn't trip over your goat, did you?"

"I'm not so senile yet," over ninety-year-old admiral replied with indignation. "I fell from the stool in the storage room. My goat has nothing to do with it," he added in a faked menacing voice.

"Fine, I understand, sorry for suspecting her," Law assured, suppressing a laugh. "Was it a serious injury? Did you have to undergo a surgery?" he inquired, guessing it was the fact. In elderly people, fractures healed much slower and not easily, even if Sengoku wasn't any ordinary man.

"They put something in my leg... and forbid me to move until the end of the year," the admiral confessed. "I told them they could order other people like that... but when I tried to walk, something cracked... so they probably were right about it."

"Of course they were right, Sengoku-san! Even a little kid know that treatment of fractures demands time," Law scolded him, refraining from adding, 'especially at your age'. "You must take it easy."

"Fine, fine. I don't like the idea of not visiting Raftel... but I think I should first get this leg healed..." the old man admitted.

"Such a long travel would undoubtedly expose you to complications," Law agreed, but then he added on an impulse, "I'm sorry I can't go there and cure you."

"Oh, come on, it's going to heal even without the Ope Ope no Mi. I'll manage. I won't be bored; I can always arrange myself something to do."

"In that case, there's even less need to worry about me," Law assured him. "Your health has a priority here. It won't be the end of the world if we skip one meeting," he declared, and then something made him add in a softer voice, "Though I always enjoy your visit... In any case, we'll see each other the next year, and the time flies. Though... Actually, why wouldn't you come earlier?" he suggested unexpectedly. "Maybe in spring?"

"It doesn't sound bad," Sengoku agreed. "I'll consider it. It would be nice to see Raftel in a different time of year than November."

Law smiled to the receiver. "I invited you many times, but you never wanted to visit on different month," he pointed out.

"True..."

There was silence for a moment, and then the old admiral asked cautiously, "Everything's all right at your end? You're not overworking yourself?"

"Far from this. I started to take days off more often. I even moved to a house; I no longer live in the hospital. And-"

Law stopped short. Like a bolt of lightning, he was hit by realisation he hadn't told Sengoku about the change that had happened in his life. Now he had no idea how to start the conversation, in the first place, for he knew it was too important to avoid it. He was filled with remorse, hesitation and anger. What to do...?

"I read that your situation had changed a bit," Sengoku said slowly. His voice was neutrally friendly, as if he didn't want to pry into someone's business... didn't want to cross the line, and for some reason it made Law feel even worse. "When you're ready to talk about it, I'll be happy to listen to you. If you want to... ask about something, I'll do my best to give you some advices."

"Sengoku-san, I..."

"Damn it, a nurse is coming with a duck. I have to hang up. I hope to meet your kid the next time. Bye!"

For a moment, Law sat without moving, still holding the receiver that had gone dead. Finally, he put it back, leaned backwards in the chair and stared at the ceiling. He couldn't focus on work. He felt bad about not having been honest with Sengoku-san - no, about having ignored him altogether - but it was another thing that weighed on him ever more. He could cope with the interpersonal matters and emotional states resulting from them - mostly, he could be blamed for it himself - but this...

By some miracle, he'd completely, _entirely_ forgotten about November. His first reaction was guilt; having forgotten about Corazon's death day, he felt as if he'd betrayed him, and the very thought made all his hair stand up, so dreadful it was. Yet this year, he'd had quite different thing on his head, things that had absorbed him without rest. For twenty-six years, November had been a time of self-mortification, and then had come this year that had changed everything, including that. This year, Trafalgar Law apparently had started to come out of mourning... and it was a good thing.

He knew that Cora-san would not want such grief. Cora-san had wished him only well... wished that Law remembered his smile, and smile was everything but sadness. Law, however, had needed that grief, for it'd been the last feeling he'd been capable of. If not for that grief, he probably wouldn't have felt anything, which would be even worse. Grief had protected him, in a way, although it had been his greatest enemy at the same time.

Rosapelo had made that grief disappear, burn out. Now Rosapelo - and everything about him - was what protected Law. It wasn't that Law had replaced Corazon with Rosapelo, had become faithless to his memory, even if his overreactive conscience might have another opinion about it... Corazon had been long dead and would never return; he'd left an empty space that couldn't be filled - until now. Remaining loyal to him didn't mean that Law had to spend the rest of his life in misery... right?

He thought he knew what Cora-san would have told him. It would be something like, 'I can't believe you keep observing my death day that I forgot about long ago, myself,' or, 'Life is for the living. Enjoy it, instead of grieving for me'. For the first time, Law understood that if he did that way, he would finally fulfil Cora-san's wish. It wasn't too late. Since the last spring, he'd been on his way.

* * *

By the year's end, Rosapelo slowed down with growing, although Law wouldn't be deluded into thinking it was anything else but a temporary delay. However, it gave the boy some time to get used to the new size, to get a hold of his own arms and legs again. Law knew that the teenager, just like half a year ago, gave his best to control the movements of his body, and his great sense of coordination helped him a great deal with it. In December, after three weeks had gone without a fracture, at least Rosapelo's mood improved, as Law subconsciously waited for something horrible to happen, that fear growing with every day passing. Nevertheless, he wouldn't stop thinking of the methods to permanently harden the boy's bones, and he finally shared the one that seemed most sensible and that he'd already made some preparation for.

"I'm going to impregnate your bones," he informed one evening, as they were eating the dinner in the nicely warmed living-room. "Before, I always densified your bones with natural material, that is your own tissue, but this time I'm going to use a foreign matter. It'll be something slightly different from the previous treatment. Since you're still growing, it's impossible to strengthen the bone over the whole length, but we're going to secure those regions that are most likely to break: the shafts."

Rosapelo listened to it and nodded. He had an unwavering faith in Law's medical abilities - even when Law himself doubted them - and agreed to every suggestion so far. Law didn't want to think how tired the boy must have been by the situation and constant injuries; such thoughts only worsened his mood.

"Then, I'll have to move downstairs again?" the teenager asked gloomily.

"_That_ is what worries you the most?" Law asked in surprise.

Rosapelo shrugged. "It's more cool to be upstairs," he replied simply. "But I'll take it," he assured animatedly.

"I have no doubt about it," Law agreed, driving away a sudden thought that he didn't want to see a situation that Rosapelo _wouldn't take_.

"What exactly are you going to do?" the boy inquired. "Will it be some plate or what...? Fractures are often treated with the plates... titanium plates, right?"

Law smiled. The interest his kid had in the medical issues was charming, although, so far, it had been limited to reading the medical books Bepo provided him with on a regular basis. Well, taking into consideration Rosapelo's initial motivation, Law should be happy that the boy remembered something more than just which treatment method had been invented by his father.

"That's correct. Titanium plates is the standard treatment of compound fractures," he replied. "But in your case I wasn't thinking of the plates, only the fibres. Imagine such very long and thin, but hard and durable fibres running through your bones and strengthening them from the inside. Od course, I'll make it so that you don't feel any pain," he stressed. "You don't have to worry about it."

Rosapelo nodded slowly - apparently, he was imagining the process, indeed - and then focused his sight on Law. His lips twitched. "Maybe you should rather make it so that I won't grow anymore?" he threw with a flash in his eye.

"And let you stay a shrimp for ever?" Law asked. "You're not being serious. You're only one hundred sixty... What kind of a football player would you be?"

"I know, I was joking. It was a stupid joke," Rosapelo said quickly. "But maybe the problem would end that way..." he added in a softer voice, lowering his head.

"Come on, Pelo, we can deal with it. Sooner or later those fractures will end. And until then, I'm going to do everything so that they happen as rarely as possible, if ever," Law ensured him.

His son remained silent.

"Pelo...? You believe me, don't you?"

The boy's head snapped up as he looked at him. "What...? Of course I do. Where are you going to start?"

Law observed him for a moment. Rosapelo's answer didn't convince him, and he felt bad thinking that, despite what he'd assumed so far, the boy may have lost faith in ever recovering from the illness that, Law realised, had been persecuting him for _two years_ already. On the one hand something like that could be perfectly understandable, but on the other hand... it would be a tragedy. A patient _had to_ believe they would recover, as such faith gave strength and enhanced the treatment process. Scientific research had proved that people who'd lost hope about the treatment being a success, were much less likely to experience recovery.

The next moment Law realised he was thinking in the categories of conventional medicine, which he hadn't done in recent years, for the Ope Ope no Mi could cure any person, regardless of their faith. But, another reflection came to him, it fitted _this_ situation more than any; after all, Rosapelo was a case that he couldn't cure with his Devil Fruit, no matter how he despised himself for that...

He pulled himself together. Even if presently he couldn't eliminate the cause of the fractures, he could still treat them or try to prevent them. Just like now. He mustn't show his lack of confidence, as Rosapelo could clearly sense it. Besides, when it came to believing in the effects of therapy, patient and doctor were the same; it was _equally_ important to both sides.

He recalled the boy's last words. "We'll start as soon as I receive the fibres. I already ordered them."

"They didn't write about the fibres in the book... I bet it's some innovative method?" Rosapelo guessed.

"Definitely. No technology making it possible to insert thin fibres in the bone shafts exists yet. Fortunately, I can do it with the Ope Ope no Mi. It's very easy."

The boy nodded. "I'm going to have titanium fibres in my bones..." he said thoughtfully.

"Actually... Those won't be _titanium_ fibres," Law corrected.

Rosapelo looked at him in surprise. "Then, what fibres? I thought titanium was the main material for the orthopaedic implants...?"

Law suppressed his smile and ignored the feeling of proud that suddenly warmed his chest - his kid was using a medical terminology, and flawlessly - and continued calmly instead, "We're going to use lighter, but even harder material," he said.

"Is there anything harder than titanium?" Rosapelo asked. "Diamond, perhaps...?"

"Bingo."

The boy's face expressed a perfect stupefaction, and only after several seconds Rosapelo shook his head in disbelief. "You're joking..."

"I'm not joking."

"You're going to insert _diamond_ fibres in my bones?"

"Yes. Diamond is the hardest material we know."

"Titan wouldn't do?"

"Let's say I want the best for my child."

Rosapelo went speechless again and only stared at him, blinking occasionally. His expression was of shock, disbelief, hesitance, guilt and many, many others... Law waited which of them would win, but he intended to carry out his plan regardless of the boy's eventual objection. No, he simply believed that Rosapelo, like every time so far, would agree to treatment Law suggested to him; he only needed time to accept the offer, to think it over without being rushed...

In silence that fell over the table Law could hear ticking of the clock on the chest of drawers, sound of water in the pipes, and hiss of wind outside. It was an unpleasant, cold December evening, with moist air getting under the clothes and sticking the needles of frost in the skin of face. The gulls could no longer be heard; sensing the storm, they'd flee to take a cover inland. Law was immune to temperature, but there was something repulsive about weather tonight - maybe the promise of first snow - which made the prospect of going out again seem very unpleasant. It was much better to sit here, in the warm living-room, with a dear man - to sit in his own home.

"But... Law-san..." Rosapelo spoke finally, looking down, and his voice was faint. "It's going to cost a fortune..."

"That is the least of our problems," Law replied lightly; he'd been prepared for that. "Besides, I _have_ a fortune. Even more."

"But..." the boy started and then bit his lips.

He looked so miserable that Law's heart clenched with compassion that soon dissolved into deep affection. He was amazed at the fact he could love that boy more and more with every passing day, and wondered distractedly if there was a limit to that feeling.

"Pelo, looked at me," he asked and, when his request was fulfilled, he went on, "When your health and well-being are at stake," 'and your life,' he added in his mind, "it doesn't matter in the slightest how much it would cost. I'll gladly pay any amount of money to guarantee you life without pain, and there's nothing strange about it. Quite the contrary, it's normal, and you shouldn't bother your head about it. You know I feel horrible whenever you get hurt. I'd give anything, really, _anything_ to protect you from it," he said with emphasis, although his voice was calm. Then, however, he added on the spur of the moment, "I'm sorry I'm so hopeless and can't help you once and for all..."

"Law-san, it's not your fault," the boy interrupted him in a whisper before staring at the table again. "It's me... and my stupid bones..."

"Stop it, your illness isn't your fault," Law stated the obvious. "While I'm a doctor, and I must remedy it."

"Yes, but... _diamond?_ "

"Consider it to be a gift for your fourteenth birthday," Law suggested as it suddenly struck him.

"Since when fourteenth birthday is an occasion for such gifts?" the boy asked, wiping his eyes and sniffing. "I've never heard of it."

"It's the first birthday you're going to spend with me," Law pointed out and, all of the sudden, felt like smiling. "We have to celebrate."

"But you're not going to give me such presents every year...?" Rosapelo asked, glancing at him.

"I'm not," Law replied warmly, although he wouldn't have anything against it. "But if it disturbs you so much," he added with a sudden inspiration, "we can make it so that once you recover from fractures, which would undoubtedly happen, we'll take all that diamond out of your bones and sell. In that case, it's going to be... like a loan, don't you think?"

The boy straightened in his chair and looked him in the eye with more confidence. Apparently, he found the idea acceptable. Law knew that his child didn't want to only receive, even if it was but natural in this situation. Inside, he congratulated himself on the thought.

"That sounds better," Rosapelo said, his voice still coarse, and nodded. "A temporary solution, I see. One day, I'm going to return the treasure to you."

'Pelo, it's you who is my treasure,' Law thought, filled with immense affection. He didn't say it, however, only threw with a crooked smile, "A deposit even." And when the boy stared at him questioningly, he explained, "The price of diamond is bound to rise, so we'll get the money back and with interest. There are only benefits, you can't deny it," he added in a theatrically serious voice. "And, besides, your bones are much safer place to keep it than any bank."

He was relieved to see that Rosapelo's lips twitched and that his eyes started to regain their previous spark. The boy sniffed once more. "Only... speaking of that... You won't tell anyone that I was impregnated with diamond from head to toe, right?" he mumbled, glancing at him. "If you do, there's a risk of someone wanting to get that diamond in their hands... which, I fear, wouldn't end well for me..."

Law laughed. "Of course I will keep quiet. Why should I tell anyone where my treasure is?" he said in a faked reproach. "Damn, it seems that deep down I'm still a pirate," he added in a voice indicating he wasn't happy with that discovery. "Then, let's just say it's about doctor-patient confidentiality," he suggested and blinked.

Now Rosapelo had to smile, and though his eyes were still watery, that smile moved Law more than all previous ones.

"Thank you," the boy whispered.

"You're going to thank me when everything is over," Law muttered.

Rosapelo, however, shook his head and said no more. Maybe it was that quivering smile, or maybe warmth in his eyes, Law didn't know that, but something made him add, "I'm glad you no longer ask why."

And this time Rosapelo nodded. Just like Law, he'd already accepted they were family.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

It seemed to Law that time had never flown so fast as it did now; however, with so many things happening, he barely even wondered about how quickly the weeks and months passed. Before he noticed, it had been a year since the events that had changed his life so much. In late January, Rosapelo and he went to the cemetery; it was the first death anniversary of Mrs Irma. The weather was different from the time when the hurricane had killed the boy's mother: it was still, and the sun was shining, with the temperature slightly over zero and snow lying only in the upper regions of the island. Rosapelo put some cold-resistant flowers on the tomb and in silence stared at the plate with his mother's name, and Law accompanied him.

Law knew that he could never reveal all feelings he was having now to the boy. He sill considered death to be the greatest misery and still wanted to fight it. He still felt sorry for Rosapelo and his loss... but looking at the black letters engraved in the pale stone, he couldn't be aware of the fact that, had Mrs Irma not died, his life wouldn't look like it did now. He wouldn't have experienced that happiness the boy had given him and that he never intended to renounce. He knew that such thoughts were low, but he couldn't help it. His remorse was a bit alleviated by realisation that he couldn't do anything about the past - and it wasn't him responsible for the woman's death - but it was a lousy comfort. Apparently, he were to remain an egoist for the rest of his life.

Glancing every now and then at the boy's profile, he was tormented by another question he wouldn't dare to ask and that didn't do him any credit: had he managed to fill the void and soothe Rosapelo's grief, just a little? He hoped so. It was common sense to believe that a parent's death couldn't be compensated for... but his heart remembered that new love could replace the lost one indeed. But did Trafalgar Law had it in himself what Rosinante had had? Could he become for Rosapelo what Cora-san had been for him? He wasn't sure if he could count on it.

Those issues gnawed at Law as the two of them went to the All Baratie afterwards, but he had no courage to put them in words. Rosapelo remained silent, but it was him who started the conversation over the meal, after all. "You know, Law-san... It's terrible to realise that someone died because of a... mistake that could have been avoided," he said in a cautious, emotionless voice, with his eyes fixed on the plate.

"What do you mean?" Law asked in the exactly same tone.

"We... my mom and I shouldn't have even been aboard that ship," Rosapelo replied, and Law agreed with him in his thought. "It was an accident, a mistake... that ended in a disaster," he added in a lower voice.

Law sat in silence, observing him closely. The boy had started the topic, so Law probably could take it. "Why did you board it, then?"

Rosapelo hunched, and Law thought that he shouldn't have asked that after all. Then, however, the boy grabbed the glass to drink some water, and there was no uncertainty to his movements. "We were going to the hospital because I had a broken arm. On my way home from school, wind suddenly pushed the door, and my arm got stuck between the frame," he said calmly.

Law felt his skin crawled at those words. The door being slammed by the hurricane could _rip off_ one's hand. Besides... he knew that the boy was pretty resilient to pain, but something like that could make one lose consciousness, and Rosapelo was saying they'd been on their way to the hospital? He didn't comment, though, only listened to the story.

"Mom wanted to take me to the hospital, but someone told us that there was an accident in the hospital and the patient would be directed to Raftel, that there was a special ferry prepared. So we went to the harbour instead, and saw the ship that the patients were transported to. Only aboard, after we departed, my mom realised the mistake... but we couldn't go back..."

He paused. Absently, he put some food on his fork and then into his mouth. He ate in silence, as did Law, who frantically wondered how he should comment what he'd just heard, and if he should in the first place. On the one hand he was glad that the boy could finally talk about those tragic events... but on the other hand his reluctance to come into contact with psychological suffering acted up now. Or maybe it was his feeling of guilt for having thought that Mrs Irma's death didn't fill him only with sorrow...?

In the end, he didn't say anything, but it was then that Rosapelo resumed talking. "I can't remember much what happened later. Only that the ship tilted and started to gain water," he confessed quietly. "My mom, until the end, tried to assure me that everything would be all right, that we would be definitely rescued... She must have been very scared, but she just wanted to encourage me. And then... Next thing I remember was waking up here, in the hospital. I don't know what happened after the ship sank. I have no memory of it."

"Whatever occurred, your mom saved your life," Law said in a serious voice. "We can't do anything about what already happened... we can only take the best things from the past, remember them."

"I know, but..." Rosapelo lowered his head even more. "I can't get it out of my head, that everything was determined by some misunderstanding, some mistake..."

Law could understand him. The misfortune that could have been avoided was always the worst... But something else about the teenager's words drew his attention. "And I'm glad," he muttered and, when the boy looked at him with a frown, rushed to explain, "I'm glad that you blame the mistake, and not yourself, Pelo. I remember that last year... you thought it was you who should be blamed for your mom's death. I'm glad you no longer think that... it's very, very good."

Rosapelo fixed his eyes on the food again and said nothing. However, he nodded, which filled Law with relief. "I'm sure that you miss her a lot," he went on, receiving yet another nod. "And it would take much longer, many years, until her absence stops being so painful. But I'm-..." He paused. He wanted to say 'proud', but could he really? So he used the earlier phrase, as it seemed more natural, more sincere. "I'm glad that... last year, you decided to fight the despair... decided to live on. I think it was the better choice. And I'm sure that many good things will still happen to you," he said with emphasis.

Rosapelo glanced at him over his place. "But they already happened," he muttered so quietly that Law could barely hear him. However, there was no mistake about it, and his heart began to beat faster, especially that the boy kept talking, and now his voice was much clearer although still very soft. "It's thanks to you, Law-san... If not for you, I wouldn't be here."

Law's heart gathered even more speed. "You're no longer mad at me for having saved you?" he asked on the spur of the moment and felt his throat clench.

Rosapelo shook his head, looking down again. The next moment, however, he raised his head and pierced him with his intensely blue eyes that, in the dim light of the restaurant, seemed even more sharp than normally. "And you, Law-san? You don't regret it?" he asked almost provocatively, but then a remorse was reflected on his face and audible in his next words, "I mean... I give you so much trouble..."

"No," Law replied with calm that had suddenly fallen on him. "I don't regret, and you don't give me trouble. Quite the contrary, I'm so happy because of you that I wonder myself how it can be possible..." He shook his head. "In any case, I can't imagine any more that you weren't here, Pelo." It was truth that, put in less elegant words, sounded, 'If you weren't here, I would go mad'... Rosapelo, however, didn't need to know the exact size of his obsession.

The boy lowered his eyes again and resumed eating. "I would've never thought of it... that the greatest doctor in the world could be happy because of something like that..." he muttered and glanced at him again, and it seemed to Law that something flashed in his sight. "Or could it be that you keep me here only because I prove an interesting medical challenge... Law-san?" he asked, putting the fork aside.

Law bit his lips to refrain from smiling, but the warm sensation in his chest got only stronger. If Rosapelo could joke in this situation - after all, they had started this conversation in a serious mood resulting from the sad anniversary - it was the most wonderful thing in the world. "Of course," he replied in a similar tone. "I must keep the Ope Ope no Mi in shape, and you're the perfect person to this task."

The boy snorted, wiping the corners of his eyes at the same time. He pushed the empty plate away, drank water from the glass and wiped his mouth with a napkin. Law observed him without suppressing his smile anymore.

"You know, I wonder about it..." Rosapelo resumed talking, and his gaze turned absent, unfocused. "Why it was only your voice I could hear... that time when I almost went insane."

Law's pulse accelerated again. "And what conclusions did you reach?" he asked cautiously.

"None at all," the teenager replied with annoyance, shrugging, and Law tried not to be disappointed. "But I think that," the boy kept talking, which got Law hopes up again, "I remembered how you'd talked with me the first time we'd met. I had the impression that you treated me serious. That's how I remembered it. And other adults treated me like a little kid. Sure, I _was_ only twelve, but..." He shook his head, playing with a crumpled napkin. "In any case, for some reason, I wanted to listen to you and not them," he stated firmly. "And when I was here again, when I learned about... my mom... they all were so good, wanted to comfort me, felt sorry for me... And I know they wished well, but... Law-san, you were the only one to say what you thought. Without overdoing anything. I guess that was what I wanted... even if I didn't realise it."

Law listened to it with conflicting emotions. "But... my words were cruel...?" he pointed out. "At least at the beginning... when..."

Rosapelo glanced at him before shaking his head energetically. "But they were genuine. You were being yourself. You didn't pretend."

"Well... yeah. I usually never conform and sometimes pull no punches," Law muttered. "Many people resent me for that."

"But to me it was important," the boy said. "Because of that, I wanted to listen to you. I felt your words mattered... that they weren't just empty phrases. That's why I could hear you when nothing else reached me anymore. I can't think of another explanation."

Law nodded slowly. "And I was sure that was because I'd scared you to death when I'd yelled at you and broke your arm, on top of it... Do you remember it?" Rosapelo nodded, looking at him closely. "It was terrible. I never stopped to reproach myself for that," Law confessed, running his hand through his hair. "It was the first time I mistreated a patient in my own hospital."

"Law-san... it stopped me," the boy said with emphasis. "And, after then, I at least didn't try to jump out of the window anymore," he added dryly.

"It's not funny, Pelo," Law said, frowning.

"I know, but I'm serious... You really saved me that time," Rosapelo assured, looking him straight in the eye. "So you don't need to feel guilty."

Law looked back at him, and they simply stared at each other in silence for a while. He felt like saying so many things - about guilt and forgiveness, about loss and happiness - but in the end, he only muttered, "Thanks."

And Rosapelo smiled briefly.

"What would you say to a dessert, gentlemen?" Sanji asked, appearing by their table and taking the emptied plates. "Today, I recommend ice cream sundae with chocolate, nuts and whipped cream, together with warming clove spiced tea. Moreover..."

* * *

January, for all bad events it reminded of, was also the month of Rosapelo's birthday. Law suspected that the boy would never be able to celebrate that day freely, with a memory of the greatest tragedy that had happened in his life coming only a week later. Still, he could hope that the clash of those two conflicting matters would result in the message that joy and sorrow belonged into life equally and that life and death intertwined. He probably couldn't count on anything else, but it would be enough, for he really didn't want that month to only made the boy feel depressed every year, just like November had done to Law.

This year January 19 fell on Sunday, and they spent it mostly in the New Piece amongst the various entertainments (and bumping into closer and more distant friends all the time, as it seemed that the majority of Raftel population, to say nothing of the foreign visitors, used to spend weekends in the greatest shopping and entertainment centre under the sun). A planetarium show, an exhibition of Grand Line minerals and another, on technology topics. A travel film in the cinema, a violin concert in the music hall and a swordsmanship show. And, to top that all, an unparalleled feast in the All Baratie. Law did his best to buy Rosapelo no present; after he put the diamond fibres in the boy's bones, Rosapelo had forced him to promise it was the only 'birthday gift'. The attractions didn't count, as Law had a free entrance to the New Piece for the rest of his life, and it was extended to his company as well. Of course, Law would buy Rosapelo anything the boy wanted, although he'd always believed that experience was more important than material goods. He was glad that Rosapelo apparently wasn't a materialist, either.

The procedure of reinforcing the bones with an uncommon method that hardly anyone could afford was performed in mid-January and without complications. Rosapelo's skeleton was impregnated with the fibres of the hardest natural material. The surgery itself was much easier from previous stimulation of the bone tissue, its main concept being inserting one thing into another. Of course, it required precision, but in fact it was a simple physical operation of 'cut-paste' sort. The boy endured the treatment without any complaint and even said, having waked up from narcosis, that he couldn't tell any difference. He was slightly disappointed that he couldn't see the fibres before the surgery, but it was a deliberate decision on Law's part; he didn't want to show to the boy the material worth hundreds of millions beli he deposited in his body, in order to avoid yet another spell of remorse due to such 'wasting' the money. As far as he was concerned, Law considered it to be the best investment.

One month later, it seemed he'd been right, for the fractures ended at once, despite Rosapelo having fallen thrice. It was too early to declare a victory and breath a sigh of relief, but optimism couldn't be quelled, for earlier such falls would _always_ result in the bone being broken. Diamond _was_ the hardest substance humanity knew, and it obliged to something.

In late February, when winter had ended - or, at least, nothing indicated it might be back - Rosapelo returned to his football trainings, and Law could tell how happy he was about it after several months of break. Whenever the boy talked about the school team, the matches and new moves, his eyes shone with enthusiasm and he wouldn't stop smiling. Oh, it made him so happy to do what he loved again, and that he could indulge in it without restraint, without fear that his next step might result in an injury. He would often say he'd fallen or had been fouled, but nothing had resulted from it: his bones were tough and could withstand the impact like never before. Law suspected that Rosapelo might play much more riskily now - basking in confidence he was protected from an injury, or simply making up for long months of football being banned for him - but he didn't see a reason to mention that. His son was reasonable enough to never cross a certain line, and that pleased him.

Maybe it was that realisation that helped him somehow endure one Sunday match that he went to watch incognito. His skin crawled upon seeing what those kids were doing on the field - and once he'd been one of the central figure in the Great Pirate War, too! - but he kept repeating to himself that nothing serious could happen there. As for the pleasant things, he learned - and it filled him with pride he did his best to hide - that his son was one of the three best players, and Luffy's Ace, for example, was no mach for him. Apart from the impressive motor coordination, Rosapelo had a great insight in the game and was the one to make practically all plays of his team. And even if Law would admit that even less eagerly, he was always happy to accept the proofs of his kid's intelligence.

"They made me a captain," Rosapelo announced upon returning from the match.

Law had managed to leave the school grounds unnoticed and was now sitting on the coach, drinking tea, reading a newspaper and generally making the impression of someone who hadn't moved from the spot in the past two hours. Tiger, curled in a ball next to him, certainly authenticated that vision.

"That should be like that," Law decided, giving him a thumb up. "Now we are a captain and a captain."

"Aboard the same ship?" the boy muttered.

"Well, sometimes it isn't that bad... I can tell you how it was when I happened to sail together with the Straw Hats..."

* * *

Spring was beautiful, and life continued without turbulences. Rosapelo was healthy and kept growing up. Sengoku-san recovered from the leg fracture and was considering visiting Raftel. Tiger performed night concerts and certainly contributed to the growth of the local cat population. The hospital didn't experience any greater catastrophes, and the new wing had been finished and taken into use. The number of staff increased, just as did the amount of work. (From time to time, Law had to remind himself that all that happened of his own volition, as, contrary to the situation from the last year, nowadays that fact didn't thrill him). The Pirate King's island once again miraculously avoided being destructed due to Shachi and Penguin's birthday party, and Law once more got into the Top 5 in the ranking 'the most eligible bachelor' made by the readers of the most popular women's magazine.

At first, Rosapelo only goggled him ('I had no idea you were so popular... You know, my mom didn't read such magazines...') only to later giggle every time he saw him and suggest that Law seized an opportunity. Later he became lost in thought and only observed him intently for a couple of days, driving Law to emotional distress. 'Should I get married...? Do you think our home lacks a woman's hand...?' Law asked in the end, which provoked a spell of hysterical laughter in Rosapelo but also put an end to that strange situation that had lasted a whole week. Law never managed to understand his kid's reaction, so maybe it was all about Rosapelo being fourteen already, and at that age boys became interested in other things beside football. Moreover, it was spring. All in all, he came to the conclusion that he should be prepared for the day his son would bring a girl home... He hoped it would be the only shock he would experience in relation to the boy's adolescence.

In March, however, the first time in several months, Law was called to the school. He teleported straight from the consultations, driving away an unpleasant thought that was it for the therapeutic success... But it was impossible that Rosapelo had got a fracture, not with those diamond fibres in his every bone...! What could have happened, then?

When he opened the door of the school medical office, he felt his skin crawl, as a teary moan reached him. It took him a second to recognise Rosapelo's voice. The boy must have been in terrible pain now; normally, he endured everything without any complaint. What had happened?! In a hurriedly pace and clenching his fists, Law entered the next room. His son was lying on the bed with his eyes shut tight. He was clearly trying to keep from screaming, but tears were rolling down his face as he was obviously crying from pain. The nurse was giving him an injection, probably an analgetic.

"ROOM."

Rosapelo opened his swollen eyes and looked at him through tears, but before he managed to say anything, Law put him to sleep and anaesthetised. The moans of the boy were like knives being stuck in his body, and he wanted to silence them. He walked to the bed that his kid was lying on inertly - and without pain - and wiped the tears from his face before looking into his organism.

Rosapelo had dislocated both shoulder and elbow, something that occurred in medicine next to never. It explained the boy's suffering, as luxation always caused greater pain than fracture, but what could explain the _injury_, itself?

"How did it happen?" he asked the nurse, having told her the diagnosis.

"He was hit in the corridor. Someone ran into him and knocked him over. He had to stretch his arm on reflex when falling... But _two_ luxations?" she asked in astonishment. "How is that possible?"

Law clenched his teeth. He would like to know it himself. Of course, if the force of the impact was really huge, and the hand fully stretched, then something like that _could_ happen. At least, he hadn't broken anything, Law thought, but for some reason that thought, instead of filling him with relief, made him grew anxious... No, he assumed too much. Dislocation would occur to any person in such a situation.

Using the Ope Ope no Mi, he set both joints and healed the injury to their capsules. He hoped that Rosapelo would feel no pain upon waking up. Then he took the boy home, extended the narcosis and went back to work. He left a packet of the analgetics on the bedside table, just in case, along with a glass of water and a note to order the dinner from the restaurant.

When he came back at seven, Rosapelo was awake and busy in the kitchen. He said he wasn't in pain and told his version of things that corresponded to what Law had heard from the nurse. "It's good it was just a luxation," he declared with a pale smile, putting the delivered dinner on the plates. "But it seems I'm not going to break my bones anymore, so that diamond works fine."

Law said nothing. Put together with the terrible pain Rosapelo had experienced, the phrase 'just a luxation' seemed a serious misunderstanding. Never before had Law seen him suffer so much, and he hoped he would never see again.

Nevertheless, it took a longer while before a bad feeling diminished.

* * *

In April, a year passed since they'd started to live together. It had passed very quickly, although, at the same time, Law was under the impression that he'd experienced much more during those twelve months than he'd had during twelve years preceding them. Most of those experiences were good, although sad moments had happened, too, but they seemed only an exception proving the rule and weren't difficult to bear and soon forget about. Being with another person made him stronger and resilient, was a good thing in and of itself, and besides... After the tumultuous beginning, everything about their relationship had been easy, so there was no reason to complain. Law knew he wouldn't trade away a single day he'd spent with Rosapelo.

When the flowers bloomed in their garden again, he realised they both had got used to their life together. It wasn't even about sharing the days as a family, more about believing it would last, not end anytime soon. Law guessed he'd been as uncertain as the boy, at the beginning... But a whole year had passed, and they were still here, undisturbed by any major trouble. Rosapelo attended school, played football and grew up, and nothing ailed him. Law went to work, treated the patients and managed the hospital, and in the evening he returned home to eat a dinner together with his son. There was no disasters and no wars, but there were stability and security, helping him believe that he would be able to keep his happiness this time. And yet it still happened that he would sometimes go into the boy's room in the night to have a look at his sleeping face and listen to his even breath, to make sure he was all right... and was still there.

His attachment to Rosapelo grew stronger with every passing day, although Law had no idea how it was even possible. He admired him as a whole, and obsessively. His sight made him happy, and his way of being made him proud. The discussions they had were a pleasure, as were their all moments together. Even if they sometimes expressed different opinions, they hardly ever quarrelled. Maybe they both considered it to be a waste of time, and no matter was so important as to spoil the good mood cause by nice the company. And whenever Rosapelo joked and laughed, Law had the impression he was the happiest man under the sun... and, by some miracle, had managed to achieve something good outside the field of medicine.

Over the winter, Rosapelo had grown up some more centimetres and could now reach as high as Law's shoulder. He kept his hair a bit too long, with fringe falling on his eyes. His voice started to change and occasionally happened to break. His face was still round, but he'd developed a great deal on a psychological level. The traits of his character were even more visible now: decisiveness, but also prudence, patience and persistence, sense of justice and uprightness. He was sensible and trusted his own assessment. He stuck to his decisions and consequently realised his plans, also those long-term ones. He helped others and returned favours. If needed, he could work hard; at school, he did greatly in some subjects and at least passably in others. All in all, he perfectly fitted into the type of person that Law would love to deal with... although it was possible, too, that Law would love him as much even if Rosapelo had been a terrible rascal.

How he wished for the boy to be healthy and free of any complaints...! Aside from the fact Rosapelo's suffering made him suffer, too, he just wanted a happy life for his kid, devoid of serious worries. He very much hoped that the newest treatment method would be a success and put the end to the fractures.

In late April, however, Rosapelo returned home from a Sunday training, holding his right arm. He was very pale, with his lips pressed tight and tears in his eyes. Law bolted from the couch and caught him before the boy, having entered the flat, fell on the floor.

"I'm all right..." he tried to protest, sniffing.

"Right, you're only close to fainting of pain," Law grunted, activating the Ope Ope no Mi. "You've got a shoulder dislocation again. Why didn't you let me know?"

"It happened on my way back, not so far... so I thought I could walk as much," Rosapelo said in a weak voice.

"If you were so close, you could've shouted. I'd hear you... You know, Pelo, sometimes I wish you weren't so heroic," Law replied with disapproval. "Now you'll get some sleep," he announced and put the boy in the narcosis to cure the injury.

Later, as they were eating the dinner, he noticed Rosapelo was down. The boy was sitting in silence with his eyes fixed on the plate. He only pecked at the food delivered from the All Baratie: Roger Bay.

"Pelo...? Are you all right? Do you feen any pain?"

Rosapelo shook his head. He kept it so low that his fringe almost got into his dinner. "I cause you trouble again," he said quietly.

"Stop it. You cause no trouble," Law replied immediately.

"Why is it happening? I thought everything would be fine now. Fractures ended... why did I start getting luxations now? It's not... fair," Rosapelo said in a breaking voice. "I don't want to be your patient for the rest of my life..."

Law put the fork down. It clattered on the plate, and Rosapelo twitched, looking up at him and straightening up in the chair. "Law-san, I mean... I didn't want it to sound that way. You're the best doctor in the world, everyone would want to be your patient..." He tried to smile but failed miserably. "I cause you trouble," he repeated his earlier words as if he hadn't heard Law's answer.

"Pelo, if I'm going be your doctor for the rest of your life, it would be the best option," Law replied calmly. "Please, don't worry about it."

"You know it's now what I mean," the boy said with annoyance.

"I know," Law admitted. "I feel bad, too... like always when you get hurt."

"I just want to be... _healthy_...!" Rosapelo uttered, putting one elbow on the table and resting his forehead on his hand. "But it feels like it's never going to happen..."

Law's heart clenched with compassion, but at the same time he felt angry, like every time his kid suffered. He thought he would probably never get rid of the tendency to feel guilty about things that were up to him...

"Of course it will happen," he said with confidence he didn't really feel. "It's only that you're still growing, and that makes you vulnerable to injuries. And luxations... they happen to everyone, especially young, active people," he added, although he was under the impression he was trying to convince himself in the first place.

"I never had them before."

"Well, before those accidents would always end in fractures," Law said and smiled briefly.

"Is it because my bones can no longer be broken?" Rosapelo asked in a quiet voice, still hiding his face. "And the impact causes dislocation?"

Law didn't say anything. He felt terrible, realising his child was clever enough to deduce that way - reach the very same conclusions and formulate the very same frightening theories he did - although, at the same time, he was happy about Rosapelo's intellect and his ability of logical thinking. The boy was fourteen and slowly stopped being a kid that would swallow everything his seniors fed to him, without thinking.

Yet, Law had to reassure him, not stir his anxiety. "I think it's too early to claim such things," he said in a cautious voice, but Rosapelo shuddered at that answer, so he'd probably expected or hoped he would hear a denial. Law suppressed a sigh and only repeated his earlier words, "Luxations happen."

The boy nodded and muttered, "I'm sorry," then got up and took his plate with barely touched meal back to the kitchen.

"There's no reason to apologise," Law said, following him with his eyes. 'It is I who should apologise, as I still, _still_ can't help you... cure you once and for all,' he thought and pressed his lips in a thin line. 'I hope you will never hate me for that, Pelo...'

* * *

The next two months went without any injuries, and Rosapelo regained his cheerfulness. Even if he felt anxious, he didn't show it. He bustled around the house like before, attended trainings - now rare as the end of the school year approached and he had to focus on lessons, as did his team - and talked with Law normally. He smiled all the way to his eyes, often shining with enthusiasm. Beyond doubt, he was okay, and Law desperately wished it to continue, although his reason laughed at him for such hope.

Spring was warm and beautiful, and summer started in May, actually. Sengoku-san hadn't visited Raftel, after all; he'd won a trip to the South Blue in the contest held by the manufacturer of his favourite rice crackers, but he promised to arrive the next autumn. A global tabloid ran a story about how Rosapelo was, in fact, Trafalgar Law's illegitimate son, not an incidentally met orphan. Those revelations were backed by interviews with several women who described the greatest doctor in the world as a playboy who, in his younger years, had been a smooth operator. 'A sailor has a wife in every port,' was repeated quite many times in those articles, often adding, 'and a kid, too.' The journalist claimed he'd reach several people who 'in all likelihood were the descendants of the Surgeon of Death and intended to enforce their rights'... the subject, however, died down at once when the competitor printed out Law's letter that could be abstracted to: 'Alleged descendants are invited to Raftel to undergo the genetic tests that will resolve any doubts about kinship.' No need to mention that no candidate to the surname of Trafalgar didn't show.

In the last week of June, Rosapelo's school organised a trip to Wulbel, one of the Four Islands, where Nico Robin had discovered the ancient ruins that had been preserved better than anywhere else. Over the time, the archaeological dig had begun to provide other materials as well, which had acted as an excuse to open a natural history museum. Of all five islands, Wulbel had the most gentle scenery, consisting mostly of vast grasslands and hills, instead of mountains like on Raftel or Vokzel, or a stratovolcano like on Tihxel. The plan of the trip included visiting the museum and ruins, and - which probably excited the kids the most - an entrance to a prehistoric park, situated close to the beach. Rosapelo, interested with the world in general, didn't want to miss the occasion of seeing another island, so Law, of course, let him go. He only warned him - ten times, probably - against climbing the high places or any other that he might fall from, and the boy promised earnestly he wouldn't. 'I'm not a little kid; I'm not excited by rubber dinosaurs.' he added with dignity, and Law had that unpleasant feeling of a bittersweet realisation, 'My kid stopped being a kid.'

After breakfast, Rosapelo made for school, where the students were to gather, filled with enthusiasm, and Law returned to the hospital. Weather was splendid, with no clouds, and it seemed that the day would be hot, just like the previous one. Until the day before, it had been raining, but one hot and sunny day had sent most of the moisture back up in the atmosphere. In his thought, Law reviewed the potential harms that Rosapelo could suffer and, his imagination being vivid, the list was long and included, among others: tripping over a stone or his own legs, slipping on the mud, puddle in the grass or hail (a hailstorm could happen), falling off from the cliff or a dinosaur (despite declarations) and, of course, being pushed by the classmates and hitting the wall or any other barrier. Then, all those thoughts made him quite ill, and he forced himself to focus on work; however, with every passing moment, he felt even worse and, in the lunch time, he knew that having given Rosapelo his consent was the worst decision he'd ever made and a proof of stupidity he'd never suspected himself of (at least, since the day he'd thought of forming an alliance with Straw Hat Luffy). It took all his strength to fight the urge to jump in a submarine and go to Wulbel. In the canteen, he almost got sick and, in the end, he returned to his office, accompanied by the thought of shamblesing all food into the ocean.

He sat by his desk, clenching his fists so hard his knuckles ached and trying to stave off a panic attack. 'His bones were reinforced, after all,' he kept repeating like a mantra. 'He can't get any fracture. And luxation... well, it won't kill him.' Of course, the thought of Rosapelo suffering - somewhere far from here... well, at least, beyond the reach of the Ope Ope no Mi - made his heart do terrible stunts in his chest. Rosapelo had already suffered too much, more it could be accepted... and yet Law may have exposed him to pain again. Beyond all doubt, he was the worst parent in the world, and now he could feel only disgusted with himself. He should have forbidden him to go, should have promised they would go there together. Oh, why hadn't they visited Wulbel so far? Why had they always stayed on Raftel, instead of letting the boy see something of the world, when under the watch of the best doctor? Law would've had an excuse the refuse his permission...! 'You're a git and an idiot, Trafalgar Law,' he told himself and felt like banging his head on the desk.

"Hey... Everything's okay?" a familiar voice came from the doorway. Law looked in that direction and saw Bepo with one paw on the frame. Now he remembered he had heard a knocking, indeed. "If it were someone else, I'd think you're suffering from a stomach upset," the mink said. "What happened? Why are you looking like someone before an execution?"

"Rosapelo... I let him go on a school trip to Wulbel," Law replied in a dull whisper, feeling his facial expression had already turned into a mask of fright.

"Oh?"

Law knitted his brows. "What 'oh'...?" he asked with annoyance.

"I think it's a good thing you let him go...?" Bepo suggested politely. "He's big enough already; he doesn't need you to hold his hand all the time."

Law frowned even more. "You don't understand? He may hurt himself. That kid is like a glass figurine. One push, and he'll fall to pieces..." He stopped. Again, he felt he would fall to pieces any moment, himself...

"Even after that special treatment of yours you wouldn't tell anyone about?" Bepo asked.

Law rested his head on his hands. "Even after it. I mean... He stopped breaking his bones, but he started to get luxations instead..." he choked out.

"Well, no-one dies of luxations," the head of the emergency department stated, coming closer. "And if you reinforced his bones, he shouldn't break them. Of course, like every kid, he's at risk of getting hurt... but why prophesise them...?"

"To be prepared...?" Law said in undertone.

"You're going to ruin your health," Bepo muttered, resting against the desk.

Law groaned and ruffled his hair... but then he realised that the presence of his friend could calm his nerves just a little. "I bet you're thinking I'm some paranoid father...?" he muttered after a moment, looking up at him, distractedly... and felt stupid the moment these words left his mouth.

"Well..." the mink replied diplomatically. "Let's say that your kid _is_ a bit special, medicine-wise, so... hmm, you do have any right to feel more concerned than an average father. Besides, you've been a father for one year only... or slightly longer... so you can't compare to normal parents, who had got accustomed to all that looooong ago... to fear for their kids, I mean."

Law groaned again. " I shouldn't have let him go," he muttered in despair. "I think I'm going crazy..."

"Should I call Clione...?" Bepo asked in an innocent voice, and Law shuddered at the suggestion.

"Don't you dare. He's the last person I need now..."

"Then, I don't know. Maybe you should take a boat and go there," the mink offered. "Go and see that everything is fine. I can replace you during the consultation, I have no work now. Well, the audience will surely be disappointed, but I'll sacrifice myself for you, just this time. I can at least give some counsel to surgeons and orthopaedists."

Law looked at him again. "If I go once, then I'll always do it," he uttered, his eyes getting wider. "I shouldn't..."

"For such things, you really need Clione, not me," Bepo said somewhat impatiently. "Just make up your mind."

Before Law made his mind, however, a sudden sound of Den Den Mushi in the pocket of his white coat made him almost jump. The next moment, even before answering, he noticed a perfect calm descending on him - as if he'd waited for that. Listening to the communication, he felt like being submerged in nice, cold water that absorbed all movements. 'A message from Wulbel hospital... your son... an accident... they ask to arrange the transport...'

"I told you," he said to the mink in a voice completely devoid of emotion and then, without waiting for reply, he teleported to the harbour.

He contacted with the hospital on Wulbel, informed he was on his way and learned that Rosapelo had suffered multiple fractures, but his life wasn't in danger. The next half an hour - that long the journey to the neighbouring island took - he spent with his eyes fixed on the dark depth in front of him. Looking at him, no-one would guess that just a few minutes ago that man had been on the verge of panic or even past it. He was sitting in the cockpit in one position, straightened, holding the control firmly in his both hands. He knew his face was calm, expressionless, and his eyes were flashing yellow in the dim light of the submarine. Not a single muscle twitched in his body - except for those he used to pilot the boat, but those were quick, precise movements he performed and then froze into a statue again. His heart was beating fast, slightly faster than normally. He was breathing through his nose, but deeply, with the whole volume of his lungs. It was the state that threat triggered; long ago, he'd used to react to fighting this way, and in more recent years, to any crisis situation when he'd had to save someone's life.

Law was that type of person that the emergency got into the maximal concentration on what he should do - and calmed him. It was a wonderful sensation where everything simply vanished, save for the aim and actions to achieve it. His whole energy went to treating people; he couldn't use it to anything else. Now he'd already reached the physiological component of that state, although not psychological yet; his thought were still running their course, but they could no longer affect his body and behaviour. And when he got into the direct contact with what required him to act, his mind and his body would synchronise fully and operate as one.

Rosapelo had suffered multiple fractures? But his bones had been reinforced with the hardest material ever existing and couldn't be broken - that was what a layman would think. But Law knew that even that method hadn't guaranteed the boy life freed of constant injuries of skeleton. He'd hoped, had wanted to do something... but all in vain. Because Rosapelo was still growing, most of the diamond fibres had been inserted only in the shafts and not the epiphyses. Between a shaft and an epiphysis lied a cartilage producing the bone tissue, and the cartilages mustn't be damaged, for it would lead to the growth disturbance. Law had dared to risk the interference with the cartilage and inserted some fibres over the _whole_ length of the bone - so that they'd gone through the cartilage - but as the bone had grown, they'd been naturally 'shortened' and could fill only the shaft that had constantly elongated.

Bones were usually being broken in the shaft, the thinnest and least dense part, anatomy-wise, so reinforcing the shafts had seemed a sensible option. That method, however, carried an obvious risk: if a shaft had been hardened beyond being broken, then the whole force of impact focused on the spot where the reinforced tissue contacted with the normal. At first, it'd caused only luxations, but Rosapelo had grown again several centimetres, so the fibres had 'slid' out of the epiphyses. Now, Law expected he would find his kid with multiple fractures of the epiphyses; it was the only option.

Realisation that his own actions had lead to Rosapelo suffering - while the primal commandment of every doctor was 'first, do no harm' - and guilt resulting from it, would normally drive him crazy, but now, as he had everything under control, he could analyse it calmly. He knew he'd used that method for there'd been no other. He'd known that better effects could be achieved if he'd waited until the boy stopped growing, but it might take even ten years. In ten years, many tragedies could happen, many accidents, including the worst eventuality he didn't even want to admit. The only way to prevent that would be to ban Rosapelo from moving altogether - but how could he even consider something like that in the case of a teenager? To immobilise for a decade? To lock inside without letting him see his friends or do sport? To a young man forced into that, such coercion would probably seem worse than death itself... and certainly worse than occasional fractures that the Ope Ope no Mi could heal within a few minutes.

Yet, Law knew that those fractures would be more and more often, because over the past two years he'd seen with his own eyes that they'd got only more frequent. Rosapelo's bones turned even more fragile, and that process couldn't be reversed. And even if what he broke were mostly arms and legs now, sooner or later he would suffer a life-threatening fracture, for example of a spinal column. Law had to - just _had to!_ \- find the way to prevent it. He was the only one who could do it. And, until then, he really needed to eliminate all threats, regardless of how much Rosapelo might protest against it.

Radar informed him the submarine approached the island, so Law reduced speed and soon entered the harbour. He hadn't been on Wulbel since his inspection of the local hospital, but thanks to his perfect memory, storing the map of every place he'd ever visited, he knew where to go. He teleported to the hospital grounds and walked straight to the casualty department. A nurse by the reception desk hurried towards him and tried to stop him, but he didn't even slow down. He only looked at her and said in an emotionless voice, "I'm Trafalgar Law from the Corazon Memorial Hospital on Raftel. I come for my son, who got sent here an hour ago with multiple fractures."

The nurse's abashment was clear. "Dr Law, of course..." he said. "This way, please."

In the corridor, a woman was sitting, and Law recognised she was one of Rosapelo's teachers. Upon seeing him, she got up and, tears in her eyes, began to chaotically report the events and apologise. He silenced her with a wave, without even stopping. He had no time to deal with the things that didn't matter. He didn't want to hear people he didn't care about.

He wanted to hear only Rosapelo... but as he walked the corridor, he felt relieved he wasn't. Above all, he didn't want to witness the boy's suffering. A bit too late, a voice in his head said, but he ignored it. Rosapelo probably had been given a painkilling injection... or was unconscious. When the nurse took him to an examination room, he learned it was the latter. Rosapelo was lying still on the table, very pale, with his eyes closed and traces of tears on his cheeks. Two doctors were standing beside him - one middle-aged and balding, the other one younger and tall - and looking at the X-ray. They both turned when he entered.

"Dr Law," said the older one, and his expression was a mixture of relief and apprehension, which was a normal reaction in the most doctors who happened to meet Trafalgar Law during work. "It's so good you're here. It's really-"

"I'll take care of him," Law interrupted him in the same voice he'd spoken to the nurse, and approached the table. "Please, step back. ROOM."

Since he'd been already prepared, and was in that particular state of emotional detachment, the sight couldn't shock him. All long bones in Rosapelo's limbs were broken in the epiphysis areas, right beyond the reinforcement, some in several parts. Fortunately, the ribs, pelvis, spinal column and skull had suffered no damage... Well, if they had, Rosapelo would be in the operating theatre or intensive care unit now. Or even...

He forbade himself from thinking any longer and started treatment instead, putting the boy in a deep anaesthesia. He rebuilt the bone and cartilage tissue of the epiphyses so precisely that no-one would be able to tell the location of the fracture lines. He repaired the joint capsules damaged by the bone fragments, as he did the ruptured blood vessels and nerves. He healed the inflammation of the adjacent tissues. Once he finished, Rosapelo's organism was like new, as if nothing had ever ailed him before...

'Until the next time,' came into his mind like a cold snake.

"I'm taking him," he announced the doctors, who'd been standing in silence by the wall all that time.

"Just like that?" the younger one asked, which made the older cast a shocked look at him and try to silence him, but to no avail. "Without a single word of explanation? We really didn't deserve that glare... You look like you wish to wipe this hospital off the face of the earth, Doctor."

Not a single muscle twitched in Law's face as he stared at the man, who was giving him both offended and challenging look. "You didn't do anything wrong," he answered calmly. "I don't blame you for anything." 'Except for being on the same island where my son was hurt.'

"Dr Martin, stop it. You're being rude," the older doctor spoke and came closer. "We just... didn't expect... Your son... Such terrible fractures...?"

"Rosapelo's bones are extremely fragile. His treatment is still underway," Law said, although he hadn't intended.

"And those... bars? What is that? It's the first time I see it," the man kept asking. "I'd love-"

"It's part of the treatment," Law replied, resisting the urge to grind his teeth. "I must return to Raftel." He turned to Rosapelo, still in narcosis, but then glanced over his shoulder and muttered, "Thank you," although he didn't really had to.

Without waiting for a response that he didn't care about anyway, he teleported Rosapelo and himself to the submarine and then spent half an hour, thinking of his next move. When there were just the two of them, the state of unnatural concentration started to fade, making way for emotions. Relief that Rosapelo was fine couldn't obscure a deep fear for his future well-being. Even if now the boy wasn't suffering, the basic problem hadn't been resolved and Rosapelo was in danger of subsequent injuries. So far, no method of treatment had been a success... and it was better to remove the diamond fibres from the bones, at least those in the limbs. Law had to think of a new way to reinforce his skeleton. It was a good thing that the summer holidays were starting and the boy could remain home. Of course, he wouldn't be happy about it, but he would surely understand he shouldn't risk another accident, at least until the new plan was made.

Law felt horrible - because of Rosapelo and of himself, too. Why couldn't he cure him? Why the Ope Ope no Mi couldn't help in this case? Why did it happen to the dearest person under the sun? He ignored the voice reminding him that, had it been not for those fractures, the two of them would've never met and certainly wouldn't have become what they had become to each other... It had already occurred, and it was pointless to return to it; he should only focus on the present. Why couldn't he find the reason behind the fractures? Why couldn't he reinforce the bones? For the thousandth time, he asked himself _was he really the best doctor in the world if he couldn't help the boy in this situation?_

As for Rosapelo... How could he trust him since Law repeatedly betrayed his trust? He'd promised to cure him of those fractures, and yet he still hadn't. Rosapelo believed him, approached his every idea openly, willingly, with optimism. He submitted to his every order, even if it meant to give up on the physical activity, or constant vigilance when walking. Without any complaint, he bore with all restrictions and worked for his recovery. And all for nothing. Law wanted to be someone reliable - not only for Rosapelo, but in general - and yet he'd failed entirely.

It was frustrating, degrading and very painful. He felt like screaming, banging his fists against the controls, grinding his teeth and crying. He hated the problems and always searched for solutions to get out of the uncomfortable situation. He was proud of his intellect - some considered him a genius - that helped him make the best plans. His skills - or the very status - let him put those plans into action. He'd got used to the knowledge that things Trafalgar Law couldn't gain if wanted, were very scarce, not only in the field of medicine, but every other as well. There was a reason why he was still considered to be one of the most influential people in the world, despite not having left Raftel region in over ten years. That was why the feeling of complete helplessness was so unbearable... It struck his self-esteem, provoked remorse and depressed - and it also resonated with suffering of Rosapelo, the boy who'd become his only important person.

But he mustn't give up. He had to pull himself together. He had to think and search, and try, learning from the mistakes he'd made and failures. The greater debt of trust to Rosapelo, the greater was his determination to pay it back. The solution would undoubtedly appear. He was no longer that weak man who'd had to put his fate in someone else's hands - like when he'd needed Corazon's help and later Straw Hat's. He was powerful and strong enough to move forward and never stop halfway until he gained what he needed. No, he wasn't going to tell himself 'enough, I can't do more'. If needed, he would cross the line of impossible and create a miracle, just like a man-created miracle had saved him, long ago.

He teleported home and put Rosapelo in the bed. He stood for a moment there, looking at his sleeping face and wondering how it was possible that he loved him more and more with every passing day. But... he never went halfway - and it was good. He knew from experience that only such a crazy love that didn't accept any limitations had the power to save.

After three hours of admitting new patients, he stayed in his office to prepare himself for meeting Rosapelo. He knew that the boy would be down, and for many reasons. He'd been careless and injured himself again. The trip had been a failure as he'd had to interrupt it, had scared his friends and teachers, and had given Law trouble. On top of it, he'd suffered fractures again and could as well forget about being healthy and active. One of that was enough to depress any teenager, to say nothing about all at once... How should Law support him? How to make him believe everything would be all right? How to cheer him up?

Take him for some ice-cream? Buy him a new book? Try to approach the situation with humour and then talk about everything else? No, he knew that the only way was to be himself - and let Rosapelo be himself. The boy had said he'd needed his words and wanted to listen to them as they'd always been honest. He was too wise to accept any shallow assurance - but he didn't expect Law to say he didn't know what to do, either. Then, Law had to find a golden mean of truth being entwined with faith and hope and strengthened by unwavering love. Once he decided on that, he felt ready to face Rosapelo.

He found the boy on the couch with Tiger curled on his lap. He knew that way Rosapelo wanted to show him he was okay; if he'd stayed in bed, the impression would be different. A realisation hit him, deepening the warmth in his chest: if the boy didn't want to worry him, it meant he cared about him.

He smiled. "I'm back," he said from the doorway. "Do we have anything to eat?"

"I ordered a delivery," Rosapelo replied in a neutral voice and got up, having shifted Tiger aside. "I'll put it."

After washing his hands, Law poured water in the jug to take it along with the cutlery to the table that Rosapelo put two plates on. The meal went in silence, but after living together for so long that silence didn't seem an enemy. When Law emptied his plate and moved it aside, he put his both hands on the table and leaned forward, looking at the boy closely.

"Pelo, I must apologise to you," he said, and Rosapelo gave him a hesitant look. "I hoped that last method would finally remedy your fractures, yet it didn't happen. You're still growing, and thus even that method wasn't perfect, and I want you to know that I'm very sorry because of that. You guessed it yourself that reinforcing your bones had caused it that force affected its structure differently, which, in result, led to different injuries than before... just like today. I must think of something else," he declared calmly, not too light, but not indicating it would be something difficult, either.

The boy was silent for a moment. "In other words, such methods wouldn't have any chance of success as long as I'm growing?" he asked in a crisp voice, but before he got a reply, he went on, "Then, maybe you should make it so that I no longer grow, Law-san."

"That's out of question, you're too short," Law replied, shaking his head.

"Believe me, I'd rather be short and active than at a risk of constant fractures, luxations and other damage," Rosapelo said with emphasis.

"Give me a chance," Law asked. "We can't give up yet. I'll certainly think of something."

The boy opened his mouth and then shut it again. Law had a nasty feeling Rosapelo wanted to say, 'Isn't there enough experimenting with my body?'

"I know it's hard for you..." he kept talking. "No, it's was an understatement," he corrected right away. "Your situation is a nightmare. And I, instead of helping you, only add to your suffering..."

"Stop it," the boy interrupted him. "I know well that every treatment comes with its risks... adverse effects..."

"Pelo, you can't treat the multiple fractures as an adverse effect," Law said softly.

"I mean... I understand it could've happened," Rosapelo replied in a stronger voice. "So don't blame yourself, okay?"

Law remained silent, observing him with a frown.

Rosapelo leaned on the edge of the table. "Law-san... I owe you my life," he said as Law still wouldn't speak. "I lost count of how many times you'd saved me. I know you wouldn't hurt me. I know that! I don't want you to feel guilty because of me."

"Pelo... I'm a doctor... and your guardian," Law replied calmly, although he was trembling all inside. "Those two reasons are enough that you ha-... hold a grudge against me."

"I don't have any grudge against you!" Rosapelo called in exasperation. "Didn't you hear what I just said? I. Owe you. My life. Or maybe you consider me to be someone who forgets such things...? Forgets it the moment the things stop going smoothly...?"

"I'd rather you blamed me than yourself."

For a moment, Rosapelo sat with his mouth open, staring at him and blinking. Then he lowered his head and hunched his shoulders, moving back in his chair. Law felt his heart was racing, but he could still control his nerves, which relieved him - as did the fact Rosapelo was still sitting here and wanted to have this conversation.

"Do we need to blame ourselves all the time?" Rosapelo muttered with his eyes fixed on his lap. "Can't we just accept what... what life gives us? Focus on those good things, instead of seeing only bad ones all the time?"

"That would be great," Law agreed, "but I must be prepared for those bad things, too."

"Come on, you know that's not what I meant," the boy grunted. "Gosh... I don't know how to talk with you, Law-san..."

"You're doing pretty well," Law said under his breath although he hadn't planned it.

Rosapelo cast him an annoyed look, as if he'd wanted to make sure that Law was making fun of him... but at least the mood was no longer as heavy as before. The boy straightened in the chair and brushed too long fringe from his eyes.

"Are you going to remove all fibres from my bones?" he asked in the end, having probably thought it was stupid they were sitting like that in silence.

"No, only from your arms and legs. I'll leave those in the ribs and vertebrae, as they grow much slower."

"You think you can sell them at better price you bought them?" came another unexpected question. "It would be good to have at least some benefit from that business," the teenager said pragmatically,

Law blinked. "No idea," he replied with a wry smile he could afford now. "It doesn't really concern me. In any case, we're going to temporarily resort to the method Number One, that is increasing the bone density."

Rosapelo rested his forehead on the clasped hands. "That's because I didn't listen to you, Law-san," he said in a low voice. "I promised you to avoid the places I could fall from, but... One of the kids, two years below, climbed on the dinosaur and his clothes got stuck, so he couldn't get down. I was nearby, so I wanted to help him before he fell down. It wasn't very wise, but I couldn't help it," he admitted with embarrassment and some provocation, too. "But he got in panic and started to wrestle, and he pushed me so that it was I who fell down... fortunately to my arms and legs... I mean..." He stopped, realising he hadn't been fortunate, after all.

"Then, the next time I should rather request that you refrain from playing a hero under any circumstances," Law commented with a sneer.

"There will be the next time?" Rosapelo asked, looking up at him and with such hope in his eyes that Law averted his gaze.

"One day, it certainly will," he muttered.

They kept sitting by the table in the atmosphere of, as it seemed to him, peace, mutual care and respect. And they hadn't got in the argument, even though there would be all the reasons to quarrel. Law thought that, of the two of them, Rosapelo might be the wiser, desiring to focus on positives, on hope, instead of seeing only those less cheerful things and letting them depress, blame oneself and apologise all the time.

"You really don't have a grudge against me?" he dared to ask, in the end.

Rosapelo shrugged. "As long as you're here, I'll be all right," he answered, although it wasn't really an answer, which Law pointed out. "I just... I just like my life now... so as long as I can live here, I'm not going to complain," he explained, looking at him with confidence. "Even if I sometimes feel ill or in pain... I'm under the impression there are more important... greater things than this illness."

And Law silenced the voice of his reason that was wincing terribly at that suggestion, because, prompted by a single memory from over half a century before, he knew he could understand it.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

Law believed that conversation had once again thwarted the danger, but as soon as July started, Rosapelo and he got into a terrible fight. Shortly after the fateful trip, Law had removed the diamond fibres from the bones of boy's arms and legs, increasing the density of their natural tissue instead. It was a never-ending job, and Law was well aware of that, but he didn't have any other concept. He repeated the treatment day by day, trying to keep the bone density at the highest level, but he realised even that didn't guarantee that no injuries would ever happen.

Rosapelo was requested to never leave home without him. Law thought it wouldn't pose a problem - after all, the school year had just ended - but, of course, a fourteen-year-old boy could find a thousand reasons why spend time outside, especially during summer holidays and the finest weather. On his behalf, Law had to decline several invitations by his colleagues who, like last year, would happily receive Rosapelo in their homes. They understood the situation, though, and occasionally came to visit the boy when Law was at work, but it probably only intensified the teenager's desire to go outside and play. His team-mates came as well, urging him to go for practice - with the school year having ended, they could finally play as much as they pleased - and he had to repeatedly explain them that, for health reasons, playing sport was excluded, which he obviously did with a heavy heart.

Law was sorry for forcing Rosapelo to stay home, and tried to make it up to him, ease his situation just a bit. He bought up half of the Roger Bay bookshop inventory and would come home not only for breakfast and dinner but also lunch; he even began to take a second day off work per week, and they would make trips to neighbouring islands on it. But did it make any difference as there were still many hours that could be spent more actively...? Rosapelo didn't show his disappointment, and Law kept telling himself that his kid _understood_ the need for such restrictions... until one beautiful July day, when he returned home at eleven AM and ascertained the complete lack of the teenager both in the flat and its immediate surroundings, that was the garden.

His first reaction was, of course, fear, but he quelled it at once with a commonsense conclusion that, if anything happened, he would've been informed. He didn't manage to think anything else, for the next moment the front door was opened and Rosapelo dashed inside, safe and sound, and, beyond doubt, unsurprised by Law's presence. He must have either noticed the parked bicycle or Law himself on his way from work, if he'd been so close to the house.

"I know I shouldn't have left," he said from the doorway, looking him in the eye from under the fringe. "I have no excuse. But everything is okay, so you have no need to worry," he added lightly.

Law stared at him in silence. Rosapelo was wearing his normal clothes and seemed to have only come out for a little while. He wasn't even flushed, which meant he hadn't run, just walked fast, at the very most... but it wasn't much of a console. Law felt his fear turn into anger, but he forced himself to remain calm. "Where have you been?" he asked in a neutral tone.

"On practice. But I didn't play, I only watched others play," the boy assured him, taking off his shoes... his normal shoes. "I'm a captain, they really need me there..."

"Was it the first time? Or maybe you were sneaking out day by day when I was out?" Law asked another question, still controlling his voice.

This time Rosapelo didn't answer at once; his expression became that of a guilty man, so Law could guess how it was. He clenched his teeth. And here he'd thought the teenager had been enduring his confinement pretty well... No wonder, if he'd been doing whatever he'd pleased, behind Law's back.

"Not day by day... only a few times," the boy replied more quietly, lowering his eyes. Then, however, he looked up again. "But nothing happened. What could've happened anyway? It's just fifteen minutes from here. And I _really_ was only sitting and watching the guys play," he said with emphasis.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Law asked, although he knew such questions didn't have any sense.

"Because you wouldn't let me!" Rosapelo replied with annoyance.

"And that made you go against my order in secret? I thought I could trust you," Law said slowly.

It wasn't really fair, as Rosapelo had never betrayed his trust so far, and some part of him knew he shouldn't have said it... Yet, he was disappointed with the fact that his kid had been deliberately lying to him, maybe even for two weeks. It hurt, regardless of how much he tried to justify the teenager's selfish behaviour.

Offence flashed in the boy's eyes, and his cheeks turned red. "Nothing happened!" he repeated for the third time. "And couldn't have happened! Okay, I agree, I shouldn't have gone against your order," he admitted, although his tone didn't indicate that he was particularly remorseful, which he proved with his next words, "But that order doesn't make any sense. I'm not even allowed to do shopping! What might happen to me within one kilometre from home? Can I really hurt myself, walking on the pavement or sitting on a bench? I don't run or climb. Believe me, I'm careful! You know I am careful, don't you?"

Law did, but it wasn't enough now. The boy was clearly underestimating his condition and risking the injury. Law had to make him remember that order _did make sense_, and why it had been issues in the first place.

"Even if you're careful, it doesn't mean you will _always_ avoid being injured," he said, frowning. "Someone may bump into you, for example. It happened before, didn't it? Should I remind you how many times you ended in the nurse's office because of that? Those weren't pleasant situations, and we must do everything that they don't repeat. Outside, you have no influence over other people's behaviour nor can you predict sudden accidents..."

"Right, earthquake and meteor shower might happen, too!" Rosapelo snapped back. "It's not a reason to lock me away! You're overreacting, Law-san!"

"Pelo, you have fragile bones," Law summoned up that terrible truth, striving to remain patient. "You can't-"

"Then, damn it, do something with it already!" the fourteen-year-old yelled, clenching his fists and emanating fury even from the tips of his hair, and that sudden outburst shocked Law. "How long should I wait?! When will I be healthy again...? When will I be able to live like everyone else, doing what I want?! Do you think I like it? That I'm happy and satisfied?! Why can't you help me?! You consider yourself the best doctor in the world, right?!"

Silence fell, filled with a signal of a ship calling to the port and buzzing of a fly beneath the ceiling, but it was those words that Law heard, echoing inside his head, every of them piercing his heart. Rosapelo was standing in the middle of the living-room and breathing quickly. His face was flushed, eyes angrily squinted, and fists slightly raised. He seemed to be ready to go at Law and demand what he was due.

Law felt chaotic emotions filling him. He could tell apart fear and dejection, hurt and guilt, and they fuelled one another. He feared for Rosapelo, for the boy's life and health, but he also was scared of his resentment. He felt disappointed with the boy, who'd abused his trust, but also with himself. Rosapelo was perfectly right, accusing him for constant failure in treating him... but his accusations were unjust and they pained Law... Could it be that the boy saw Law only as a doctor that he expected treatment of, and in that case...

Law swallowed down, when a cold fist grasped his heart. This way or another, he knew what he had to do. The boy's life had a priority, and no price was too high to pay. Even if Rosapelo were to hate him, Law didn't mean to revoke his decision and give up on the security measures. He loved him too much - even now, this very moment when they were facing each other like enemies - to turn back from the right path, guided by cheap cowardice. He was tough, and he could also be ruthless... Once, he'd been consider a particularly _cruel_ man.

He clenched his jaws and focused his sight on Rosapelo. Something flickered in the boy's gaze as he opened his eyes wide, and his strained expression loosened. He took a step back and lowered his arms; he seemed scared. "I mean... Law-san..." he uttered. "It's not-"

"You have every right to feel that way," Law said, forcing himself to every word, as it seemed that everything in his body from his neck down had frozen. Yet, he knew he was right, and it was the only motive force he needed. "It's been a year and a half, and I still haven't found the way to help you... to cure you once and for all. I understand that you resent me for that. Yes, I'm supposed to be the best doctor in the world... all the more reason to feel disappointed with me."

"No, it's not like that... I shouldn't have-" the boy tried to interject, but Law didn't listen to him.

"But I promised to restore your health one day, and I'm still intend to fulfil that promise," he kept talking, and there was no emotion in his voice. "I'll do everything in my might to make it happen as soon as possible... but until then you must simply bear with me, even if you don't like it... even if you can't stand me."

"What...?" Rosapelo groaned. The last traces of anger disappeared from his face, replaced by a clear confusion, but Law didn't pay attention to that, either.

"However, I'm responsible for you, and thus, as long as you live with me, you _will_ listen to my orders," he said with emphasis. "When I say that you can't go outside without me, then it will really be so. If you can't comply with it, then I'll take you day by day to the hospital and lock you in my office. Let me remind you that my office is on the eighth floor, so it's impossible for a normal person to escape from it," he added in a colder voice he'd intended. "All I ask you is to be patient a bit longer. Once everything is over, I won't keep you. You'll be able to do whatever you want."

Tears glistened in Rosapelo's eyes, and then the teenager passed him and ran to his room before Law managed to admonish him. The door slammed, and the silence fell again, so deep someone's heartbeat could be heard.

Law returned to the hospital at a pace only slightly slower, and without slamming the door. He couldn't look anyone in the eye, so he fitted in the corner of the lift and fixed his eyes on the floor. His appetite was gone, and he only wished to get to his office; he practically ran to it. He slumped in the chair and put the elbows on the desk, rested his forehead on his clasped hands and wondered if he could be even more pathetic.

Even if he knew he'd done the right thing, the burden in his chest wouldn't diminish. He felt awful about having behaved so authoritatively towards Rosapelo, imposing his will on the boy. Sure, he had all right to act that way after the teenager had ignored his guardian's requests and orders... but that argumentation didn't comfort him at all. The scene that had taken place... he considered it as his failure and felt ashamed.

Rosapelo had defied him - for the first time since they'd started to live together, so... he probably hated him...? Despite what Law had thought just a moment ago, now that prospect filled him with the deepest despair. He'd wanted to support the boy, be more an assisting partner than someone to threat and demand... and yet he couldn't. He remembered the boy's expression when they'd parted. It was as if he'd seen Law's real face. After that, Rosapelo would be scared of him and, beyond doubt, wouldn't even want to stay with him any longer... and this moment Law couldn't think of a more dreadful eventuality. Actually, he felt so bad, so hopeless that he could cry.

Law knew that he turned into an unpleasant person whenever something didn't go his way... whenever someone didn't agree with him... that he used to say horrible things and treat the other person badly. That was why, whenever possible, he tried to avoid confrontation. Just like Ikkaku had once said, he would become even more quiet than he already was, and withdraw. Now, however, he'd let that dark side of him prevail... and in front of Rosapelo, whom he cared about more than anyone else. How could the world still be normal after that? How could their relationship be normal again? He felt something had been ruined between the boy and himself, and with his own hands. He felt he would never be able to return home... the place he'd been feeling so good in, until today... where, for the last year and even longer, he'd been _happy_.

"Hello...?" a bright voice broke into his thoughts.

Law raised his head and saw the last person whose company he needed, standing in the doorway: the head psychiatrists of the Corazon Memorial Hospital, glancing at him from behind the opened door leaf.

Law frowned. "Go away," he said with resentment.

Clione raised his thin eyebrows and looked at him with, as Law interpreted it, a lenient amusement. "My radar told me you're in need of a specialist consultation," he said. "In reality, my intern had just seen you in the lift. She was so kind as to tell me you'd been looking like you blamed yourself at least for an approaching end of the world."

"I'm sorry I scared her," Law retorted. "Tell her that it's my normal expression."

"Not recently," the psychiatrist questioned his opinion and then, without waiting for invitation, entered the room. "As for my interns... You don't need to worry about them; it's not easy to scare them... Now, what happened?"

Law stared at him angrily, but Clione calmly looked back and smiled gently. He made himself comfortably on the coach, crossing his legs, and didn't seem like leaving anytime soon. Law didn't want to talk, didn't want to tell anyone about his failure, and there was no doubt the psychiatrist would get everything out of him... If he wanted to avoid it, he should get up and leave now - but where? He didn't feel like eating, and home...

He lowered his head and slipped his fingers in his hair as the feeling of hopelessness overcame him again. "I'm not qualified to be a father," he mumbled with his eyes closed.

"Why do you think so?" Clione asked, and there was no surprise to his words.

"I yelled at Pelo and ordered him to stay home," Law said quietly. "I forbade him from going outside without me, two weeks ago, but today I learned he hadn't respected it at all. I mean... I understand he doesn't want to sit at home... but it's for his own good. He's still at a risk of fractures 'cause I still hadn't managed to cure him. So we just got into an argument. It was terrible... No, _I_ was terrible... I threatened him with locking him in my office, which scared him, of course, I could see it on his face... I bet he's sick with me... Besides, what normal person would like to stay with someone they are scared of? But I told him to bear with me a little longer... until I find the way to help him... and then he could do whatever he pleases." He lowered his hands and put his head on the desk, pressing left cheek to the cold wood and looking at the wall. "I thought the things were going well for us... that I treated him right... I thought, last year, that I would manage somehow... but now I see it won't work, I'm no good. I can only demand and impose conditions... nothing new... I made the boy cry," he said and felt his throat clench. "I'm a terrible parent, no wonder he started to defy me... but I should've been wiser and-"

"Okay, that's enough," Clione interrupted him. "I get the picture," he assured. "A point for you for being able to put into words what you're feeling. It's a progress comparing to what was before. But you need to work over the ability to see things objectively. And you still haven't done anything about your tendency to feel absurd and excessive remorse..."

Law sat up and glared at him. "Absurd and excessive? I had a fight with my kid...!"

"I'd say it's _about time,_ " the psychiatrist replied, giving him a clear-headed look of his steel blue eyes.

Law blinked. "What...?"

"Law, do you really think that people don't get into arguments?" Clione asked in a voice of exasperated disbelief. "And if they happen, that means the end of the world? Every person is different, has their own opinions and beliefs. It's natural that the differences cause tension and provoke discussions. Even arguments and fights. And if we're talking about a parent-child relationship, then believe me, the _full agreement_ is much more strange," he said with emphasis, clearly making a dig. "In that situation, a _problem_ should be searched for."

"It's not that," Law replied; anger helped him to get out of sudden stupefaction. "Do you take me for a half-wit, Mr Wise? I know _perfectly_ well that Rosapelo can't agree with me on everything. Of course we have different opinions on many things, I've learned it for the last year and a half... But so far they weren't any problem, we would accept it and get over, respecting our different thinking."

"And you think that now, as you can't get over, everything is lost? You're going to tell each other, 'It didn't work, bye'?"

Law frowned even more. "Of course not, it's just-"

Clione shook his head and sighed. "Law, for your own good, you should stop with that 'either-or' approach. With that white-or-black thinking. I know that your personality makes you regard your life in 'all or nothing' categories. You expect of yourself and your life that things will always happen in specific way, and if they don't, then it's the end. I'm well aware that you don't stop feeling and thinking that way _only because_ I tell you to stop. But I'm going to keep telling it nonetheless, for every time I express my opinion, it's like a little pebble on the scale. And one day you'll probably be ready to try... to start doing things differently."

"Psychotherapy, no?" Law muttered, although he hadn't planned it. He pressed his lips tight, deciding to keep silent from now on.

The psychiatrist showed him a thumb-up yet continued talking. "In any case, arguments don't mean that people don't care... Actually, in most cases, it's the opposite. You can't make equality between angry words and hate," he said with emphasis. "I suppose it's your fear of being rejected speaking now. You still think that if you do something wrong, then Pelo will take and leave, right? Maybe that's why you have treated him so gingerly so far, as if you'd been scared of raising your voice, to say nothing of setting demands or forbidding him from doing things... Am I correct?"

Law said nothing.

"And it's been over a year. Law, it's normal that parents sometimes restrict their children. It's _normal_. And necessary because children need limits in order to develop properly. A parent who lets their kid for everything hurts them as much as a parent who forbids them anything. Then again, your orders and bans aren't based on your whim only on rational grounds, are they? If you care about my opinion, very little fault can be found in you as a father. The boy is happy with you, that's obvious."

Law gave the psychiatrist a suspicious look. It was very rare for Clione to praise him, so he found it hard to unreservedly believe him. Besides... He remembered Rosapelo's face when trying to hold his tears, again. "But he was hurt...!"

"Of course he was, what else did you expect?" the head psychiatrist scolded him. "He cares, so it's obvious he was hurt. If he hadn't cared about your opinion, no argument would have happened in the first place. It would be all the same to him what you thought. But I think I know what hurt him the most... what scared him the most, as you claim..." He mused. "I wasn't there, but..." He looked at Law again. "Did you really tell him that he had to bear up with you a little longer?"

"Yeah... something like that...?" Law admitted.

"Don't you think it may have sounded like, 'I'm going to cure you, and then get out of here'...?"

Law blinked... and then felt he went pale when that eventuality caught at his mind. No, it was impossible... Rosapelo couldn't have thought that... right? He must have realised Law's behaviour resulted only from the concern about his welfare and safety...! Or maybe... Maybe he didn't realise that...? Maybe he thought Law kept him only for medical reasons... only because he felt obliged to cure him...? He recalled the words he'd used, and his anxiety only grew. 'You have fragile bones'. 'You must avoid situations you could hurt yourself'. "I'll cure you, and until then you are to do as I say'. The whole conversation had revolved around the illness, and the emotional message lacked. Rosapelo could have really thought he counted only as a medical case... while it wasn't that...!

Law buried his face in his hands again. For over a year, he'd been trying to show how much he cared for the boy... but could it be that Rosapelo still wasn't certain of it? A year is quite a short time, after all... And if Law himself still feared of being rejected, like Clione had said, damn him, then wouldn't it be strange if the boy felt exactly the same... and even stronger? His father had left when he was still a little child, and then he'd lost his mother as well. Then, Law had entered his life, giving him stability - or so Law thought - but was it really hard to assume that Rosapelo had been afraid of losing him, too? No, Law found it ludicrously easy to imagine. After all - as he suddenly realised - it had taken him a _quarter of a century_ to believe that Corazon had done what he'd done out of love, not sense of duty.

The words he'd said today Rosapelo may have interpreted as his fear come true, fear that had been accompanying him for almost year and a half. Oh, how could Law have been so thoughtless... how could he-

"Before you plunge into yet another pit of guilt, let me remind you that you're just a human being," Clione's calm voice broke his thought process. "You make mistakes just like everyone, but you can also learn from them. Nothing happened that couldn't be _repaired,_ Law," the psychiatrist said with emphasis.

Law looked up at him and stared for a moment, as if he'd seen him for the first time. He frowned, trying to focus his sight.

"No, I can't read your mind," Clione said. "I just spent more than half of my life near you."

Slowly, Law nodded, although he had no idea what it was he agreed with, then activated the Ope Ope no Mi and teleported back home.

Silenced was reigning in the flat. The sunlight was coming through the windows and garden door, forming the spots on the wooden floor and showing up the specks of dust in the air. Tiger was sitting on the coach and licking his belly; he didn't even react to the host's sudden appearance, as he was probably used to people appearing and vanishing from his sight all of the sudden. Law, jumping several steps at once, ran upstairs and knocked on the door to Rosapelo's room; he could barely hear the sound, as his heart kept playing its own melody in his ears. There was no answer, but he entered nonetheless, and Tiger slipped right behind him, as if he'd only waited for the occasion.

Rosapelo was lying on the bed with his face pressed against the cover and his arms put around his head. He didn't move. Law came closer and sat down on the floor, resting his back on the edge of the bed. His eyes caught the photograph of Mr Irma on the desk. He thought distractedly she probably hadn't experienced such difficult times... but, he realised the next second, she hadn't brought up a fourteen-year-old kid.

"I'm sorry, Pelo," he said. "I used many bad words a moment ago. I focused on wrong things. You were right, I overreact when it comes to you... I'm scared like hell that something might happen to you. That's because you're the most important person to me. If you-" He stopped and gulped. "I don't want you get hurt again, you've already been hurt more than enough. For me, there's nothing worse than your suffering. That's why I want to do anything to prevent it."

Silence.

"You're my kid first, and only then my patient," he kept talking, and the words came to his mind easily. Apparently, it was exactly what Clione had said: he'd finally learned to express his feelings in words... and it was good. "I want that you get healthy... but it's not why you're here. We became a family, and we'll always be it, Pelo. It's not that, once you recover, I'll tell you to leave. If you thought that, then I'm terribly ashamed of myself. Of course, if you wish to leave, I won't stop you by force... but I still hope that you stay because... Like I told you last year already, I can't imagine living without you," he said in a softer voice.

"I don't want it," came a stifled answer.

Law felt his heart drop into his stomach. He turned his head to look at the boy. "You don't want it?" he repeated dully.

Rosapelo raised his tousled head and looked at him with his blue eyes, blinking several times. "I don't want to leave," he specified firmly... but then he averted his gaze. "It's me who... I'm sorry for what I said," he added more quietly. "And for having gone against your order, Law-san... It won't happen again, I promise."

Law stared at him for at least thirty seconds, trying to comprehend how that could be even possible. After anger, screams and tears, after threats and imposing his will, after protests and bad words... After dejection, hopelessness and feeling that the world had ended... All it took was one 'I'm sorry', and then another, and then understanding, and then forgiving, and the disaster had been over, as if it had never happened. How could it be so easy? He couldn't explain it with logic.

'You're just a human being. And nothing happened that can't be repaired.'

A common sense that could only coldly analyse balance of losses and benefits or rationally put the debts and favours together, couldn't give him any answers... so he had to rely on his heart, that was telling him now that interpersonal relations worked on different principles and were based on different values. If one looked with their heart, then life wasn't a game with a single defeat meaning a definite end. He remembered that Corazon had _never_ given up on him.

He reached and tousled Rosapelo's hair affectionately. "Thanks," he muttered. "Thank you, Pelo..."

And the boy said nothing, he only nodded, pressing his lips together. Tiger jumped on the bed, as if he'd only waited for a suitable moment, and made himself comfortable on Rosapelo's lower back. The teenager moaned and turned his head back, surprised by a sudden heaviness. "You don't need to watch me," he said reprovingly to the cat, that didn't care about that complaint only kept lovingly digging the claws into his clothes. "I already promised I won't go anywhere..."

Law laughed and got up. The corners of the boy's lips twitched as well. "I hope he will go soon so that I could prepare the dinner on time," Rosapelo declared, glancing at him.

"Dinner sounds good... especially that I had no lunch today," Law replied. "I'll have to grab a salad from the canteen."

"Then go already. The sooner you go, the sooner you'll be back," the boy muttered.

"I'll be back," Law agreed and activated the Ope Ope no Mi.

He couldn't cease being amazed at miracles happening one after another in his life... but he'd rather forget the amazement and focus on happiness they brought.

* * *

For the next few days, he intensely thought of the way to reinforce Rosapelo's bones. Once more, he performed a detailed scan of the boy's body, only to find no pathology. He read everything about the skeletal diseases in the books in the paediatrics and orthopaedics sections of the hospital scientific library and in the medical journals from the last five years. He held a case conference with Kaya, Marco and Uni. He investigated the problem from the physical, biological and physiologic viewpoint.

Without getting any effect.

All methods could work in case of an adult, but not a fourteen-year-old kid who was still growing. Applied at this stage, they would result in hindering that growing, and it was the last option Law would agree too.

Every time he put down yet another book or a medical magazine that hadn't given him the desired answer, he fell into even deeper pit of hopelessness that he found even more difficult to raise from. It was a horrifying thing to observe a disease, see its progress and being unable to do anything with it, especially when it concerned the most dear person in the world. It seemed that with the Ope Ope no Mi he was a perfect doctor, capable of defeating every illness, every physical defect... and the truth was that he couldn't find a solution in this particular situation. He felt like cursing the fate for bringing such a misfortune to the only person he cared about.

In other times, however, he tried to see some hint in it. Maybe there was the deeper wisdom and the greater meaning in that? Maybe Rosapelo had met him because it was exactly Law, and no-one else, who could _help_ him? When he viewed the problem from that point, he felt slightly better. He'd never wanted to put a human life in hands of something as vague as destiny... but if the two of them hadn't met by accident, then maybe some good should result from it, not evil...? Just as he'd met Corazon, who had managed to save him despite everything, despite the verdict of nature... then maybe Rosapelo needed him to be his saviour...? It gave hope and motivated Law to keep searching, analysing, thinking.

He noticed he reminisced Corazon more often nowadays. First, it was only fleeting thoughts, associations... single constatations. Then, he started to remember images, like photographs, portraits, face close-ups - smiles, grimaces of anger or sadness - accompanied by sounds. It seemed to him he could remember Cora-san's voice, sometimes perfectly calm, sometimes ringing with every possible emotion, all of them genuine. Then, he started to see in his mind the whole scenes, events of their journey, moving like a film under his eyelids. Cora-san setting the hospitals or himself on fire, Cora-san getting angry at the doctors and the nurses, Cora-san doing stupid things to cheer him up, Cora-san tripping over his long legs and never hurting himself... Cora-san keeping Law close and always protecting him from harm...

And even that cursed island, Minion, memory of it always making his heart beat faster and his mouth filling with bile. Minion, where Cora-san had achieved the impossible, sacrificed everything to defeat a devil in the fight for Law. Until the very end, he had guarded Law against evil, never letting him out of his arms and taking every blow at himself. No matter how many times he'd fallen, he'd always got up. No matter how many bullets he'd taken, he'd always mustered strength to move on, as if he could prolong his life if it'd been essential to Law surviving. He hadn't hesitated even once. He hadn't cared about himself. He'd channelled all his determination to save Law. He'd been someone much larger than a human, in every aspect. Law considered him an angel, a powerful god who could face a whole army... and yet had died by a single bullet shot right in his heart by someone who'd once been his closest person: his own brother.

If not for Doflamingo - and Law - Cora-san would have lived until this very day, and probably for many decades yet. As a Celestial Dragon, he'd had much longer life in prospect. As for his unnatural durability, making him immune to practically every injury, Law could see it with his own eyes. No-matter what trouble Cora-san had got himself into, he'd never even broken his nail, to say nothing of more serious wounds. His organism was almost invulnerable...

Law straightened up in the chair and stared at the opposite wall, although he couldn't really see it. Everything vanished, and the time stopped. In his ears, a silence of perfect void was ringing, and his mind became clear and bright, and was showing him a solution so ideal that everything lost its meaning.

**_He could modify the genetic code of Rosapelo - change the material responsible for the bone structure - inserting the data of the genome of the Celestial Dragons._**

When the moment of epiphany passed - and it seemed the most important moment in his whole life - his brain started functioning again, and in higher gear than before, analysing and planning the operation at the lightning speed. Oh, it was so easy...! He knew with all himself that, with the Ope Ope no Mi, he could do it. It wouldn't be an interspecific synthesis; the Celestial Dragons were, after all, the humans, only perfected to some extent, at least physiology-wise. Genetic material of every 'normal' person had potential to develop in that direction, although, of course, it wasn't something achievable at will. But the Ope Ope no Mi could modify the genome according to its user's will and knowledge; Law had done it countless times when curing the congenital diseases. It was as simple as hardly anything.

There was a problem, though: how to get the genetic material of the celestial Dragons? During the revolution, majority of the Mary Geoise citizens had been killed, and few survivors had been sent to a small island, its location known only to Sabo, the leader of the World Government. That decision had been made both in desire to protect the people from that degenerate caste... and protect the self-proclaimed gods from the people. Coexistence hadn't been considered; the Celestial Dragons wouldn't be able to function on equal terms with the normal human population that they considered as animals... while people would never let them live in peace, and sooner or later a massacre would happen. Sabo had showed the survivors pity they probably hadn't even deserved... but Law thought that being exiled to an isolated scrap of land with no chance of return, and forced to live with no wealth, no power and no significance, was, in fact, much greater cruelty.

In any case, Law shouldn't consider that option; he had no mean to reach that group, and he didn't believe that Sabo would make an exception and tell him the location, regardless of the good cause. Still... there _was_ one Celestial Dragon within Law's reach... but even thinking of him in this contexts made him feel sick and evoked absolute objection, so he immediately forbade himself from doing it.

In fact, he didn't need the genetic material itself; he would do with just knowing its sequence. Maybe he could find some information about the genetics of the Celestial Dragons in the archives of Mary Geoise that had been saved from destruction...? Who could tell what had been the level of their medicine and science...? With the unlimited wealth, they'd certainly hadn't lacked money to perform research, and their self-admiration had beyond doubt made them constantly seek proof of their own perfection. If those material and documents had been preserved, then Law had the chance to get them in his hands. Every mean was better than...

Yes, it was a good idea. The very same evening he wrote and sent a concise letter to the government archives, requesting that all information concerning the physiology of the Celestial Dragons be forwarded to Raftel. Well, he suspected that it would be more sensible to take a leave and visit the central in person. Who could tell how many records there were and how long it would take the archivists to find what interested him? Himself, he would undoubtedly browse through those materials faster, since he already knew what he looked for. He should try to deal with it this summer...

When just a week later, in mid-July, he return home and found Rosapelo unconscious on the floor - the traces indicated the boy had fallen from the stairs - with fractured skull and head injury, Law realised the two of them were already on borrowed time. He no longer had any privilege of hesitating and being picky, not when the life of his dearest kid was at stake... of someone that Law didn't imagine his existence without. He'd survived the death of his parents and sister, he'd endured the death of Cora-san... but it was clear to him like his own name that he wouldn't stand losing Rosapelo.

When his child was on the post-operative ward, safe for the time being, Law returned to his office, put the Den Den Mushi closer and dialled the number. His hands no longer trembled.

"Sengoku-san, I must ask you a favour," he said after he heard the familiar voice in the receiver. "You need to get me an entrance to Impel Down."

* * *

The underwater prison was situated at the far end of the world, right on the other side of the globe. Getting there in the fastest, utilising the newest technology submarine would take over a week. Using teleportation that the Ope Ope no Mi enabled him to, Law could cover that distance in less than two days. That way, apart from making the travel considerably shorter, had one more advantage: it was so exhausting that Law couldn't afford even thinking of what he was about to do. If he'd spent a week in a conventional means of transport, perhaps he would've changed his mind, given up on his plans... such great repulsion it evoked in him. Now, however, he was in Mary Geoise before he knew it. He spent over twenty hours there, sleeping, to regenerate his strength. Sengoku-san had carried out the assignment, and the permission to enter Impel Down was already waiting at Law, so, as soon as he recovered, he went to his final destination.

Abandoning the hospital didn't bother him. He'd had a reason why interrupt the work... no, a reason more _important_ than the work. Rosapelo's life had the utmost priority, and saving him was governing Law's actions now. He'd decided he would never allow it that what he loved was taken from him, and that decision determined everything he was doing now. When he were to choose between helping others and helping Rosapelo, then there was no real choice at all.

He'd never been in Impel Down and had never planned to come here. It wasn't a place that the likes of him would visit on their own will. Even though the new authorities had stimulated the modernisation of the prison (and of many other governmental structures) - some of the convicts had been given a real legal process to have their verdicts revoked, the verdict could be something else than life sentence, the tortures couldn't be used in every crime, and many other changes had been performed to secure the prisoners' basic rights - it was still a dreaded symbol of justice. Hannyabal had proved to be Magellan's worthy successor as the chief warden, and he'd beyond doubt learned from his predecessor's mistakes. For over fifteen years, he hadn't allowed a single escape, although he'd had to let free some of the inmates, those who'd had their sentence reduced or even had been pardoned by the new authorities. He hadn't done it with enthusiasm, but, in many aspects, he'd been much more flexible than Magellan. It had helped him to adapt to the new age and its demands, without stepping out of line.

Of course, for the prisoners in the deepest levels not much had really changed, if anything at all. Those convicts had committed the most foul crimes against humanity and no attenuating circumstances might let them go out to the surface again. They deserved to be isolated from normal people, so that they would never hurt anyone. The new government had abolished the death penalty, although it was certain that for some to be sentenced to life in Impel Down was much worse option than a quick execution. Law didn't wonder that after whole years and decades of isolation in a dark and damp place - with no hope for freedom - many lost their sanity or turned into inert, vegetating plants... He knew well what lack of hope could do to a man.

Hannyabal was waiting for him in front of the main gate and didn't even blink when Law materialised before him on the only bridge leading to the building.

"Trafalgar Law, I awaited you," the chief warden greeted him. "You don't lose time. I've just received the message that you had departed from Mary Geoise... I barely managed to run to here from my office...!"

"My time is very precious," Law muttered, handing him the document enabling him to visit and leaving unsaid that the man didn't look as if he'd just run a sprint. "I wish to get this thing done as soon as possible."

"As for that thing of yours..." Hannyabal mumbled, running the paper down with his eyes. "I wasn't told what business the greatest doctor in the world has in _my_ prison."

"You weren't told because I didn't consider it necessary to mention it to anyone," Law replied coldly. "I want to see someone."

"Not me, I reckon...?"

Law said nothing.

"Well, having connections is a nice thing, isn't it now?" the chief warden commented with slight resentment. "To issue permissions to visit _my_ prison just like that, without even bothering to ask _my_ opinion..."

Law spared himself yet another, perfectly useless, remark that Impel Down was under the jurisdiction of the government, and so the decision belonged to the politicians. He was only standing and staring impassively at the big man, who was still examining the paper as if he'd been expecting some trick.

"It looks genuine," he finally claimed with reluctance, then put the document in the pocket and waved at the guard. "Open it."

The gate made no sound, even though Law had unconsciously expected it. Hannyabal must have taken a good care of _his_ prison, not only of his position in it... The gate was only slightly opened and then quickly closed again as soon as they got inside. Law found himself in the corridor, lit by the torches by the walls, its far end obscured by darkness. It was amazingly quiet here, and the steps - clicking of heels on the stone floor - was reverberating loudly.

"A climatic place, isn't it? I really like it here," the chief warden said. His voice had turned unexpectedly casual, as if he'd already 'forgiven' Law having suddenly appeared in _his_ prison without asking his permission. Maybe was he even glad of that visit...? Law suspected that the guests from outside didn't come here often... In fact, he didn't care about it in the slightest; he was too tense to bother himself with feelings of the Impel Down boss, and thus he was just walking with his eyes fixed at the darkness at the end of the corridor.

"Let's go there, first," Hannyabal showed at the door leading to some office. An officer inside jumped out of behind his desk upon seeing his superior and saluted. "He is Vice Head Jailer Derek. Derek, our guest, Trafalgar Law, has arrived. He wished to see one of our prisoners...?" he finished in a question, looking at Law again.

Law clenched his jaws, resisting the urge to clench his fists again. Delaying wouldn't do... even if everything inside him protested against saying that hateful name. He hoped it would be the last time. "Donquixote Doflamingo," he spat.

A surprise flashed in Hannyabal's eyes, only to turn into distrust the next moment. "Doflamingo...? Why do you want to see him? You don't plan to set him free, do you...?"

Now Law did clench his fists, and the nails dug into the insides of his palms. Before he replied, though, an outraged voice of the officer was to be heard, "What are you saying, Chief Warden, Sir?! It is Trafalgar Law who had brought about Doflamingo's defeat...!"

"Hmm, it may be true," Hannyabal admitted reluctantly, never taking his eyes off Law. "But you can never be too sure around them."

"Them?" Derek asked, confused.

"The outsiders," the chief warden explained to him in a voice of someone who knew more, although it didn't seem that the younger officer was any wiser after that answer.

"As far as I am concerned, he may rot here. I couldn't be more happy," Law said in a whisper, for he couldn't trust his voice. "But first I _must_ see him."

"But I'm going to watch you anyway," Hannyabal informed. "Besides, the chief warden is obliged to be present during the visitation of the Level 6 convicts, it's a rule. Not that they are visited often... You're going to leave all your weapon here, if you have any on you, and we'll put the Seastone Cuffs on you. It's a normal procedure," he added as an explanation, although Law hadn't even winced since he'd expected something of that kind.

After the personal control and applying the security means, they headed for the lift that started to slowly move down. Officer Derek accompanied them. During their journey to the Level 6, Hannyabal tried to entertain his guest, but Law didn't listen to his talk. He couldn't quite remember the last time he'd been so upset. All muscles in his body were tensed, as if he were preparing for attack or escape. His heart was beating fast in his chest, and his mouth was dry. He fixed his eyes on the floor, trying to drive away an unpleasant thought that the Seastone Cuffs made him defenceless like a baby. He hadn't felt this way since the time before getting the Ope Ope no Mi...

"...Here is Level 2. In my predecessor's days, it used to be guarded by wild beast, but such practice was then abolished by the new government... It's a pity; no-one could control the prisoners like those monsters. On the other hand, we managed to create new jobs, so-"

Was he _scared_ of Doflamingo? Once, he certainly had been, when being in awe of his power. That awe had never let him take his enemy lightly... had made him wait half of his life before he'd dared to challenge him. And the truth was, he hadn't managed to defeat him; it was Straw Hat, who'd done it, in the end... But was he _still_ afraid of Doflamingo? Even now, when that monster had been locked in for fifteen years and should never get away...?

"-but sometimes it's a tough business. As a chief warden, I must be the strongest and always in a good shape, but I'm having those backaches every now and then, some rheumatism, Heaven forbid. This dampness is playing havoc, and I've been working here, without bragging, almost forty years. Maybe you could check me later, since you're already here? Your Devil Fruit can heal every disease, right...?"

No, it wasn't fear. It was rather deep revulsion caused by the prospect of meeting the man he'd never ceased hating... and asking his help, on top of it. The very thought made his insides turn inside out and bile raise to his throat. This hatred still hadn't burned out, even though it would soon be three decades since that monster had harmed Law the way that couldn't be atoned for. Law had never wished to see him again. It was enough he hadn't managed to forget about him...

"...I sometimes wonder if I should apply for early retirement. Maybe you find it shocking - after all, there's hardly anyone with such an authority as I - but as a doctor you surely understand one should take care of their health, too. To say nothing about being unable to find a girlfriend; no girl wants to live here... I dream of living in a residence on some sunny island where it's always warm-"

He had never wished to see him again, and yet he was here - because of Rosapelo. Apparently, love was stronger than hatred... and at least that realisation warmed his heart in the darkness around and inside him. He breathed deeply and loosened his fists, noticing his nails had cut the insides of his palms. He'd wished to live without being restricted and governed by anyone, with himself setting the rules - and that was how he'd been living for almost fifteen years - but now he was stepping down into Hell, willingly, in order to save another man. No matter how painful, revolting or difficult it was, he would bear with everything to help Rosapelo. What was his psychological comfort when compared with the boy's suffering? Just a ridiculously low price for health and life.

He felt better and, when the lift stopped at the lowest level, emerged from it, holding his head high, determined to go through it with dignity, although currently he had just a short corridor to go through. Level 6 was governed by silence and darkness. The torches, spaced at considerable intervals, could barely lighten the cages with the prisoners. Only some of them seemed to retain their senses, probably those who'd been here the shortest period of time. Most were lying inert, following the passing people with their indifferent sight, and no understanding, no traces of feelings or emotions could be seen in their matt eyes. Sometimes a stifled moan could be heard, as if the person uttering it was too weak to scream. Most of the time, only regular water dripping could be heard. Even if the prison had undergone a modernisation, Law thought it hadn't reached this level. The prisoners were kept alive, or, at least, their bodied were. What happened to their minds was probably no-one's concern.

That was why Law was shocked and his skin crawled when they approached Doflamingo's cage and stopped some three meters away. The light of the nearest torch showed only thin calves and feet shod in the simple loafers; the rest was hid in the shadow, but Law's eyes quickly got used to darkness and would soon see the details of the figure that only outline was visible now.

"It that you, Hannyabal?" a voice soaked in a hateful smile came from the cage, a voice that Law had never forgotten and that made his muscles tense in a sudden spasm. "I recognised your walking. What do I owe this pleasure? And I think the Vice Head Jailer, too..? But the third one... Have you brought me a visitor?"

Doflamingo was lying spread on the floor, and his huge body, clad in striped uniform, was bound with several Seastone Chains. He was looking at the low ceiling of his cage - or maybe even not looking, since he seemed to easily perceive his surroundings with hearing...? Maybe he didn't want to waste his energy on raising his head... At first glance, he didn't stand out of other prisoners - put in chains and immobilised in his cage - but the words he'd just spoken were still ringing in Law's ears, filling him with terror.

It had been almost fifteen years since the leader of the Donquixote Family had been locked in the underwater prison - long enough for a normal man to go crazy - and yet that monster had kept his sanity. He hadn't yielded to hopelessness, hadn't yielded to Seastone draining his powers, hadn't yielded to damp darkness of the sea depth. He seemed to have come here only yesterday, or simply resting and restoring his strength to move on soon.

'He's dangerous,' flashed through Law's head. 'We mustn't lower our guard or underestimate him, for he still haven't given up...!'

"I see you're enjoying yourself, Doflamingo," Hannyabal said in a grumpy voice.

"And something tells me I'm going to enjoy myself even more," the prisoner answered at once. "Well, what is it? What do you need me for?"

"Not me. Mr Trafalgar Law has a business with you."

Silence that fell after those words seemed to drill the eardrums. Law clenched his fists again, paying no attention to the pain. Very slowly, Doflamingo raised his head and looked at him, and Law could almost feel his stare piercing him, although Doflamingo's eyes were hidden behind dark glasses like before.

"Law?" the fallen Celestial Dragon asked, stretching the short name beyond limits, clearly savouring it. The tiniest hint of surprise was barely audible against the excitement and deep pleasure in his voice.

But what struck Law the most and almost confused him was a complete lack of hatred. For a split second, he couldn't grasp it... After all, it was him who'd contributed to Doflamingo's fall and life imprisonment in Impel Down... And Doflamingo was glad, seeing him? How couldn't he not hate him... when Law himself was almost choking up with hatred...?

Then, however, he realised he was facing a monster whose actions had always been incited by instincts and drives, and who just wasn't capable of higher emotions. Doflamingo could experience anger, excitement or urge to destroy, but love, happiness or despair - and even hate - were completely beyond his reach. He couldn't even comprehend them.

"Law, I knew you would come back to me one day," Doflamingo spoke, his voice still ringing with that disgusting satisfaction, and then the chains clattered when he slowly sat up and looked in their direction. Law tried to consciously slow down his breathing and resist the impulse to take two steps back. He told himself his enemy couldn't reach him. "What I don't know is why you're here... Have you come to talk about old times? Reminisce our past in the Family? Or maybe you'd like to talk about our future...? Could it be that you're sick of living like a saviour of humanity? It figures. You're just like me-"

"I'm not like you," Law responded; the words escaped his lips before he hadn't thought of them.

"I wish I could offer you some wine and cocktail," Doflamingo went on, as if he hadn't heard him at all. "But, as you can see, my possibilities are limited. You could even say that my hands are tied," he added in the tone of telling a good joke.

"I didn't come here to chatter with you. I'd rather be silent for the rest of my life than talk with _you_, Law said in disgust.

"But you are talking with me," Doflamingo pointed out, clearly revelling in that truth. "Then, you undoubtedly want something from me. What can I do for you, sitting in the Level 6 of Impel Down and unable to use my powers?" he asked, almost laughing. "Of course, my offer is still on the table, as long as you're breathing and walking on this earth... Do you remember my offer from Dressrosa? Unless, of course, you start babbling about resurrecting my good-for-nothing brother... But you must have forgotten about him already... didn't you, Law?"

Law bit his lips, for suddenly he felt like yelling. Just a moment ago, he'd wanted to stand back, and now he had to resist the urge to go at Doflamingo with bare hands and pound him, beat to a pulp, until no trace, no tiniest bit of that filthy creature was left, as he didn't deserve to live. When he'd been far, at the other end of the world and justice, Law had been able to push Doflamingo out of his mind... but now, when he was here, looking at that monster again, breathing the same air... now hatred grabbed him by his throat and obscured everything else.

Yet, he didn't want to live by hatred, especially that love had always been stronger. And, he remember, he was here because of love. That was why, when he spoke, his voice was cold and perfectly composed. "I'm surprised _you_ still remember him, since it was Cora-san who initiated your fall..."

"What's that rubbish, Law?" Doflamingo asked, and the earlier satisfaction had vanished from his voice. "Corazon? Initiated my fall? My foolish brother died at my own hand before he managed to do any real damage to me. After killing him, I claimed a kingdom, built my empire and remove any threat from the Navy. Corazon had no say in what happened after he died in a pathetic way."

"The only thing that is pathetic here is you, Doflamingo," Law replied, and his tone was still calm. Now he felt he had control over the situation and wouldn't lose it any more. "You never understood it. Not on Minion, not in Dressrosa, nor now. You're monster devoid of human feeling. Even if you put all your energy and thought for a hundred years, you can't _comprehend_ what feelings are... what love is and what it can do. Cora-san showed me the way I should follow. It was him who ripped me off of you... not only physically, but of your way of thinking and perceiving. He saved me... not only my body, but my soul, in the first place. Normal people have souls... And what the monsters of your kind have inside? I suppose you're just empty...?"

Doflamingo chuckled frighteningly. "Oi, oi... It's our first meeting in fifteen years, and you're talking such things. You didn't grow into a good boy, Law. But you're right. I don't need any feelings to govern me, and emptiness is very good. I can fill it with what I want. What it was that Corazon's _love,_" he spat that word, "drove him into? Dying like a dog-"

"It pointless to talk with you about it," Law interrupted him flatly. "And I don't plan to spend here any longer than absolutely necessary. What I want from you is your blood sample."

Doflamingo raised his brows. "What do you need my blood for, Law? What do you want to grow from it?"

Law said nothing.

Doflamingo grinned. "You already know my answer," he said. "I agree to that, and everything else you might wish, if you perform the Perennial Youth Operation on me."

"What's fun of being immortal if you're never going to leave Impel Down?" Law asked, although it didn't really interest him and he was getting tired of this conversation. In fact, he didn't know why he was even having it. He didn't really need a consent... Maybe he simply - unconsciously - wished that something happened to persuade him out of that idea that filled him with such an objection...? Ridiculous...!

Doflamingo rested his head on his hand. "Law, Law..." he said, clearly amused. "You should know me better. I don't plan to spend my whole life here."

Hannyabal, who had only listened to their conversation without commenting so far, moved now in a restless manner. "Hey, Doflamingo! Watch your mouth!" he called, and Vice Head Jailer Derek backed him up. "If you still dream of seeing the outside world again, them you're an utter full. As long as I'm the chief warden-"

"Exactly. As long as _you_ are the chief warden, Hannyabal..." Doflamingo interrupted him. "We don't know if your successor won't be better disposed to my... proposals, right?"

"This way or another, it's a nonsense," Law threw in. "Be serious, Doflamingo. Have you gone mad? You're the worst... the most vile scum that has ever walked on the earth, and besides you turned my life in hell, and I never forgave you. I won't perform the Perennial Youth Operation on _you_. If, somehow, I were forced to do it, it's obvious I'd choose someone else, anyone, any-"

He stopped short when the meaning of what he'd just said hit him. For the second time within just one week, he found himself in that strange suspended animation between two fractions of a second, where the light was brighter and the darkness deeper than before and the whole world seemed to make a perfect sense.

The Perennial Youth Operation would grant Rosapelo eternal life in perfect health. Law could do it himself, without help of the most hated man. Why hadn't he thought of it until now? Why had he needed _Doflamingo_ to get the idea? This knowledge hampered his euphoria... but only for a moment. It didn't matter because of who; what mattered was that he'd understand what he could... should do.

"Law... Could it be that you have a candidate, after all?" Doflamingo asked, stretching the words and vowels, and that tone made his every word sound almost obscene.

Law focused his gaze on him, but he was under the impression that the fallen Celestial Dragon was already escaping his perception, slipping out of his mind. His thought ran to Raftel, where his heart, too, was going out to. Longing for Rosapelo that he'd pushed away for the last three days, struck him with all its might. Now, he had no longer anything to do here; there was no point in staying here. He was sick of this place and wanted to go back, look at his son again... Until now, they hadn't parted for so long... and so _far_...

"Trafalgar...?" Hannyabal asked somewhat sheepishly, and then his arm twitched, as if he wished to nudge him but checked himself in the last moment.

Law turned on his heel and made his way to the lift. He could barely hear the words behind them; he let them slip over his mind and vanish in the dark. "Actually, it would make things easier for me if you died, Law," Doflamingo called, and his voice was satisfied again. "The sooner the better. I could once more search for the Ope Ope no Mi and _this time_ get it..."

"Doflamingo, I told you to watch your language!" Hannyabal shouted at him, but the prisoner only laughed sleazily. "Trafalgar, is your business over? You really want to leave already?"

Law only nodded briefly, so deeply in thought that he didn't pay attention to his surrounding. Strange euphoria was filling him... but was it really that strange? He almost felt like laughing.

When in the lift again - this time going up, back to light - Hannyabal said, "I didn't understand much of your conversation... Except one: that man still poses a great threat. I think I won't think of retirement yet," and his voice was firm as steel.

"Very good idea," Law replied automatically.

Then he cast Doflamingo off from his mind for ever and bid a farewell to hatred. There was no need to waste his life on it. When he came up to the surface again, standing under the blue sky and bright sun, he breathed in the salty air and marvelled at how exquisite it was: to feel he could finally do something worthwhile. Now he could no longer refrain from smiling.

When he spread out ROOM and started his journey home, he was still filled with happiness. He was perfectly certain he would smile all the way to Raftel.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

Before going home, Law stopped by Mary Geoise and demanded that _all_ materials concerning the Ope Ope no Mi held by the authorities be sent urgently to Raftel: notes by the previous users, examination results, descriptions of techniques, and so on. He had no doubt that the World Government archives included pretty much information since that particular Devil Fruit had been targeted by the politicians since ever. As a current user of the Ope Ope no Mi, he had every right to access those data, for example for the good of mankind. Until now, there had been no such need - he'd known the abilities of his Devil Fruit good enough to sufficiently use it as a doctor (to say nothing about reacting allergically to the very thought of asking the World Government for _anything_) - but now the situation was different. He intended to use a technique he'd never planned to use, so researching all available information was the only sensible move.

Of course, there was a chance that those documents included knowledge about other diagnostic or healing techniques - something that would help cure Rosapelo without resorting to the Perennial Youth Operation - but Law was pretty sceptical in that matter. He'd been using his Devil Fruit for nearly thirty years, and he couldn't imagine having omitted some option, having left undiscovered and unused some function of it. The Ope Ope no Mi had been his part - part of his body and mind - and Law could use it without planning, simply by instinct. No-one needs to think about how their arm worked in order to move it, nor did they need to think constantly about familiar things. Something like that was usually fully integrated and under the person's control; it was the same for Law, who knew, felt and thought via the Ope Ope no Mi. No, it was impossible that some secrets still existed, he was convinced of it, so there was only one solution, after all.

After taking care of his business, he headed straight to Raftel, allowing himself only short breaks and moments of rest. The journey home took a bit longer, as he could still feel the earlier exertion, but the whole trip had taken less than six days; as he travelled only East, he didn't lose time and returned to Raftel on July 21. (He was absent from work for a week, as he slept a whole day again after coming back). For all his exhaustion, he could clearly notice the feeling of relief that welled up in him upon seeing the familiar landscape after the last skip: he retuned _home_. The Corazon Memorial Hospital was as he'd left it - it was standing proud and firm on the southeast coast of the Island of the End and Beginning, and light in many windows indicated it kept watch to immediately rush over with help in emergency - but why should it be the opposite? His competent personnel was able to deal with any problem... and Law had no doubt it would be the same in the future as well.

As for Rosapelo, him he found in much _better_ condition. He'd left without saying goodbye, as the boy had slept the whole afternoon and night after the operation, while Law had departed at dawn. He'd asked Bepo to pass a message to Rosapelo - that he'd had to take a quick trip - and visit him from time to time, which mink had solemnly promised. Now, once he was back, Law was happy that journey had been so exhausting, otherwise longing for the boy - and anxiety - would have eaten him alive as soon as the first day... maybe even turned him around. Visiting Rosapelo was the first thing he did after sleeping off his fatigue and taking a shower.

It was early evening. The sun must have just dipped below the horizon, for the outside world was bathed in a soft shadow. Law ignored furious pangs by his stomach that, after three days of starving, demanded food (releasing glucose to blood helped only for short period of time) and walked one floor down. Rosapelo was still in neurology, although nothing ailed him. Upon seeing him, Law was almost swept off his feet by the feeling of happiness and relief - and the sudden affection filling his heart - but, at the same time, he felt an unusual bust of energy.

"I'm back!" he said from the door, smiling widely.

Rosapelo smiled back, and his eyes shone with joy. "Finally," he muttered.

Law sat down on the chair by his bed. "How do you feel?"

The boy shrugged. "Normal. Where have you been?"

"I had a sudden business to attend to," Law replied lightly. "But I'm back."

"You haven't left for so long before," Rosapelo said, frowning. "Actually, you _never_ left."

"There was no need for that. Besides, I'm not going anywhere anymore," Law assured him with that cheerful tone.

The boy nodded slowly and then looked outside. He said nothing. Law realised he'd hoped that Rosapelo would be more enthusiastic about his coming back... Apparently, one happy look wasn't enough for him, he thought ironically, but then he became seriously anxious. Was the boy feeling unwell, after all? Or maybe he thought of Law poorly because of such a sudden disappearance...?

"Everything okay, Pelo...?" he asked cautiously.

The teenager clutched his hands on the cover. "Are we going home?" he asked, ignoring the question.

"Not yet," Law replied calmly, although he felt bad about it.

"Then, maybe I could... move upstairs...?" Rosapelo suggested timidly, looking at him again. "I don't need to lie here, right?"

Law nodded. He thought the boy's suggestion over and didn't find any contraindications. Actually, such solution suited him even better... and he was touched by the request, on top of it. It seemed that the fourteen-year-old had really missed him... "But you remember that my room is small," he warned. "And you couldn't leave it when I admit the patients in my office. And I probably won't be able to spend much time with you, for I'll have a hell of lot of work after one week of being off."

"I'm fine with that," the boy replied at once.

"In that case, there's no problem. But you're going to promise me that you won't leave without me, okay?"

Rosapelo nodded, albeit somewhat absently. His fingers were still fidgeting with the fabric of the cover. Law observed him closely and could tell that something was on the boy's mind.

"Law-san... What's wrong with me?" the teenager asked in the end; his voice was softer than before, and he had his eyes fixed on his own knees under the blanket. "I... can't remember a thing."

"But they probably told you why you got here?"

"I lost consciousness... fell from the stairs... at home...?"

Law nodded. "It looked like that. Fortunately, I found you soon enough and operated you," he said; as Rosapelo remained silent, he continued, "During the last week that I was absent... did anything happen?"

"No," the boy replied, adding, "I was staying in bed all the time."

"I appreciate it," Law assured him in an earnest voice, but then he smiled wryly. "I bet you were pretty bored...?"

The boy shook his head. "Bepo-san visited me often. And I asked for books... I had time for reading."

Indeed, three books were lying on the bedside table, although Law wouldn't call those thick tomes an entertaining read for a teenager... unless they were either Trafalgar Law or a similar freak. 'Anatomy and Physiology of Central Nervous System', 'Brain-degenerative Diseases', 'Epilepsy'. It seemed that whoever had taken care of the boy, they'd just grabbed several books from the ward library... Well, knowing Rosapelo, he may have read them with curiosity; for quite some time, medical literature had been included in his area of interest, so he'd probably asked for such books himself.

"Not too boring?" Law asked regardless.

"I read only 'Anatomy and Physiology of CNS', it was good," the teenager answered bravely.

"I think you don't need to open the other two, as you have neither brain-degenerative disease nor epilepsy... Unless, of course, you plan to become a neurologist," Law said with a grin.

Rosapelo, however, didn't catch his good humour and, instead, pierced him with an intensely blue gaze. "Law-san... Do you think I will live enough to become a neurologist... or anyone?" he asked directly.

Law felt his heart plunge in his stomach. "Of course you will!" he replied at once. That one thing he was sure of like his own name. "You're going to become whatever you want, Pelo!" He hesitated a moment... and then decided to confess it. "I finally found a way to guarantee your health. It's a reliable way to keep your good condition for ever. That's why I took that trip. I went all the way to Mary Geoise."

The boy stared at him, knitting his brows. He didn't seem as happy as he should... Ah!

"You don't believe me? Well, that's no wonder," Law admitted. "We tried many things and haven't succeeded so far. No wonder that you're sceptical..."

"No, it's not that," Rosapelo interrupted him firmly. "I just.. A reliable way? It sounds... well, a bit fantastic...? But it's not like I doubt you, Law-san...!" he emphasised.

Law tousled his hair with affection. "You'll see for yourself. I must work on it a bit, but I think that we'll get it done this month," he declared and smiled again. "You'll be able to finally live in a normal way, with no restrictions, run, play, do everything you wish... It's great, isn't it? Have you really stayed in bed all that time?"

The boy nodded. "I only got up to go to the bathroom."

"You're a good kid, Pelo."

A smile stretched the corners of the teenager's lips, and Law felt the pressure in his chest ease off. It was that moment that his stomach chose to loudly protest against being maltreated any longer. Rosapelo raised in brows in a complete surprise, and Law suppressed a laughter.

"I must eat something," he said, getting up. "And as soon as my room is cleaned, we're going to install you there. I'll come for you."

Rosapelo nodded again, and his eyes flashed in happiness, provoking the same reaction in Law. His kid had _really_ missed him and was happy of his return - could there be anything even more wonderful? With that thought, he left to waste no more time... and stay alive. He informed the nurses that he would take the boy from the ward within one hour. On his way to the canteen, he contacted the cleaning personnel and asked to take care of his flat. After that, nothing could stop him from stuffing himself with rice and fried fish. He couldn't quite remember the last time green tea had tasted so good.

When he returned to his office, he found his flat ready for Rosapelo, so they carried out the move immediately. Along with the boy, he shifted also books and clothes that someone, probably Bepo, had brought from home, so that the teenager didn't need to wear a hospital pyjama all the time. Law decided he had to thank his friend for having tended to his kid.

"Will I really not bother you here?" Rosapelo asked, having come to the familiar room.

Law looked at him with reproach. "You never bother me, Pelo," he answered. "It would be good if you remembered it already," he added with a smile.

His son nodded and sat down on the neatly made bed. "I'm glad you're back," he said.

And Law thought his happiness was getting more complete with every passing hour.

* * *

The next few days were so busy that - taking into account Law's previous lifestyle - it seemed totally impossible. Law had a week worth of work to catch up, so he asked his secretary to stop processing the referrals until the further notice; first, he had to deal with the patients that were on Raftel already, awaiting the admission. He didn't visit his home - Tiger, taken in by Penguin during his owners' absence, had to stay in the foster home a bit longer - he only brought himself a change of clothes. He slept slightly over two hours per day, suspended the consultations and stopped taking the days off; in practice, he devoted every moment to treating people. Rosapelo caused him no problem, spending time on reading, and didn't complain about staying inside all the time. At least, they ate together - Law had asked that the meals be delivered to his office at fixed time - but it was the only time they would talk. Law assured the teenager that it was just a passing phase and then their life would return to normal, and the boy undoubtedly believed it.

Rosapelo didn't bring up the topic of the 'reliable method' that Law planned to use to cure him. He'd probably concluded Law would settle down to it once he got ahead of his crazy workload, which was true, so some extent. With so many patients hanging over his head, Law had no chance to focus on that, and he was decent enough to first take care of the necessary things. Amazingly, no patient complained about having the already set date of admission and treatment moved up... delayed by even a week; maybe it was really about what Clione had once said: that people would forgive Trafalgar Law absolutely everything. Well, Law wasn't that convinced they would forgive his next - and final - egoistic act, too... but it wouldn't matter to him anymore...

Documents with the information about the Ope Ope no Mi arrived via fax as soon as the next day after his return. Together, they formed an over three centimetres thick pile of paper, several hundreds pages that Law put in a folder and browsed through bit by bit in the evenings when the work was done and Rosapelo asleep already. Every time, he found it more and more difficult to stop reading, but he forced himself to do so, knowing that he had to get at least two hours of sleep as the next day, well before dawn, he had to treat the patients and it wouldn't look good if he collapsed mid-treatment. It was a fascinating read. It included more or less detailed descriptions of action of the Ope Ope no Mi made by people who'd been either witnesses or objects - soldiers, journalists and normal people - together with the comments of the governmental specialists, aiming at explaining the mechanism behind those actions. There were also, of course, relations of the patients who'd been healed by the Ope Ope no Mi, in forms of both newspaper clippings and separate documents that seemed to have been prepared on request. In many places, Law's name figured, but there were also materials from before his time.

What interested Law more were the scientific and medical records written up by the previous users of the Ope Ope no Mi. He found the list of them and of people who'd been suspected to be ones, with the dates of their death (sometimes also of birth, if it was known). The list spanned many centuries - it appeared that the World Government had monitored the Ope Ope no Mi since very long, almost since its forming eight hundred years ago - and included slightly below twenty names. Later, Law found the personal files of the users; some had only a couple of sentences, others (like his) contained many pages. Much to his surprise, he discovered that only few had used that Devil Fruit for healing - besides Law, only three - while most of them had used its powers to foul ends, driven by greed for money or power. All had gained fame - or, rather, infamy - because it a person was intelligent and with a lot of imagination, the Ope Ope no Mi provided them with a wide range of skills and made them practically invincible, ensuring long career and quick success. The group included several contract killers, two thieves and even - how awful - a specialist of very refined tortures working for the government.

If Law had been more social person and shared an emotional bond with the humanity as such, he would've felt disgusted at the very thought he used the same abilities those scums had. But, like they said, weapon is neither evil or good; everything depended on the person holding it. Besides, he remembered, it wasn't like Trafalgar Law had _always_ used the Ope Ope no Mi for the good of mankind... Then, he couldn't consider himself to be innocent, and condemn others... but he still _felt_ better just knowing that, contrary to those individuals, he'd decided to devote himself to medicine, not piracy, after all.

He continued browsing the folder until he finally reached the desired materials: information left by his predecessor, that famous doctor he'd heard about from Corazon and whose name was, like he learned now, Shin'ya Kō. It was impossible to tell whether that man had been under the close surveillance of the government or simply had worked for them, but it didn't really matter now. What mattered was that he'd left a _very detailed documentation_ of using the Ope Ope no Mi on the human body. Law found both the doctor's personal notes and reports made by the team he'd worked with. He read them with nostalgia and curiosity, and sometimes with a feeling it was something very familiar. Above all, he gained confidence that the previous user of the Ope Ope no Mi was a real genius, and he was amazed at the fact he'd never come across any mention of him over almost forty years of more or less intensive contact with medicine. It might seem obvious that such an outstanding specialist _must_ have gone down in history and science, but apparently the government had had monopoly on his whole academic achievements and, for some reason, hadn't found it suitable to share it. Well, nothing else should be expected of the previous World Government... On the one hand, something like that was frustrating and unjust, but on the other hand... it was Law's name that would go down in history as a precursor or an originator of numerous diagnostic and treatment methods developed in the Corazon Memorial Hospital. Not that it interested him much.

He managed to look through all materials in slightly below a week, and he by no means considered it a wasted time, because he found a detailed description of the Perennial Youth Operation. It appeared that technique had been developed by Law's predecessor; no-one before had thought that the Ope Ope no Mi could be used to grant another person eternal life. Dr Shin'ya speculated that it was about simply passing on the internal energy _every_ Devil Fruit had - he was of the opinion it could be compared to the energy of the sun, quantity and power-wise - but, as the Ope Ope no Mi was the only one to influence directly human anatomy and physiology, and without any limitations, only in its case it was possible to consciously direct that energy inside the other's person body.

Law had to admit that theory was sound. He'd long since assumed that the Devil Fruits were some kind of concentration of energy that, which was a common knowledge, could affect the physical and psychical traits upon permeating a living body. It wouldn't be anything strange if that energy were almost inexhaustible, so the comparison with the sun made sense. He could imagine the flow of that energy between the two organisms during the Perennial Youth Operation, but he wasn't any wiser than Dr Shin'ya in regard to _what exactly_ happened to the receiver, on anatomical and physiological level. The documents, of course, didn't mention who it was that the surgery had been performed on, so Law couldn't search and examine that person in order to find out what kind of alterations his or her body had undergone, even though they had to live somewhere and do greatly. In any case, the detailed description of the procedure remained because Dr Shin'ya had dictated everything he'd done to his assistants, who later had attached also their own observations and conclusions to the file. Technically, Law knew perfectly well what to do, and was fully convinced he could perform that operation with equal success.

Finally came the evening that he managed to read the whole content of the folder - he'd read every page and every scrap of paper - and then returned to the description of the Perennial Youth Operation. The clock struck midnight. Law took the glasses down and leaned on the back rest of his chair. It seemed he had no other choice. He hadn't found any information about how to cure Rosapelo of his undiagnosed brittleness of bones. He knew no Devil Fruit that would make the boy enjoy health and help him to prevent any physical injury, and even if he had, there was no time to search for it. (Just in case, he checked the offer of the black market, only to be disappointed). He had no means to pass the powers of the Ope Ope no Mi to the boy, that could actively protect him from diseases. First, he would have to die, and it was still unknown how the Devil Fruits returned to circulation; it could as well be that the Ope Ope no Mi appeared halfway across the world and remained undiscovered for the next fifty years.

He had no other option than perform the Perennial Youth Operation on Rosapelo, providing him with eternal life. He knew he wouldn't hesitate to do it.

Of course, he didn't want to leave him. He wished to stay with him for the rest of his life, see him grow up, mature and become an adult man, support him in everything, rejoice in his happiness... But there was a risk that Rosapelo would die before he managed to achieve anything: maybe in one year, maybe in one week, maybe even tomorrow. Well, perhaps not tomorrow, as he was currently under Law's watch, but keeping him locked, prolonging his captivity, and limiting his life in every aspect would be a cruelty he didn't deserve. Rosapelo had his finest years ahead: his whole youth. He couldn't spend it at home, bed-ridden.

And, in fact, since Law had thought of the Perennial Youth Operation - since that moment in Impel Down he'd realised he _could do it_ \- he didn't see any other solution. Even if he considered other options that were at least worth checking, the idea of that particular procedure had stuck to him like an obsession. He was determined to use that technique on Rosapelo, and nothing could dissuade him from it, the least prospect of his own death. Actually... to realise that finally everything would end filled him with relief.

He was aware that he'd been condemned to death as a kid already. Corazon had managed to trick the fate and had given Law a few decades, but now Law was acutely aware that it was a borrowed life and that the debt should be repaid. That time, almost thirty years ago, when he'd been left all alone once again... it was then that he'd understood he shouldn't have survived, for his life had been paid with another man's death. For so long - most of the time? - he'd believed he should have died and Cora-san should have lived. He couldn't comprehend why Cora-san had died for him, for a stranger, and rotten to a core, too. He'd thought that one could die only for their family members... And despite witnessing it himself that sometimes brother was capable of killing his brother without scruples, he'd pushed it out of his memory, or so it had seemed to him.

When destiny made him cross ways with Rosapelo - a stranger who'd become _his_ family - Law had started to remember that blood ties didn't really matter. What mattered were feelings; they could form much stronger bond. He'd begun to understand that, in the name of those bonds - in the name of those feelings and concern about the beloved one - a man could give his life. When watching Rosapelo's struggle against the disease, he'd started to accept deeply inside that no price was too high if he could release the dearest one from pain. Only now he could finally comprehend _why_ Corazon had died, and only now he was able to finally believe what he'd heard from him on Minion.

Cora-san had loved him, and that was all.

Law had never wanted to let destiny govern his life - and now he had to admit it was really so, for he could see clearly all elements entwined together. Corazon had died so that Law could live. Law had lived his borrowed life, and now was the time that his death could guarantee Rosapelo's life. Meeting Rosapelo was no coincidence, and thus now it was his turn to pay off the debt and pass on the gift of life. Even if Law had finally found his happiness, it was obvious he couldn't remain in it. He hadn't deserved happiness, and yet he'd been given it, so even if he'd had it only for a short while, it was more than enough. If he had to choose between his own happiness and that of his beloved one, then there was no need to think of it at all.

There was something more that only strengthened his determination and legitimated his decision. Long ago, in childhood, his father had told him a story about a miracle-doctor who kept deceiving Death in the fight for his patients' lives. One day, Death, frustrated he snatched away those who were destined to come to him, deceived the doctor and carried to his kingdom. Law, when he'd become a doctor and devoted himself to cure people with the Ope Ope no Mi, also had been deceiving death, snatching those already doomed from its clutch, many thousands of human creatures... Then, it was perfectly just that he would pay for it one day, now... but he had a chance to save one more life, take it back from death _for ever_, and he couldn't imagine better end and greater victory.

He guessed that history and the public would judge him less favourably - as someone who'd given up his service to humanity for his _personal_ reasons, stripping away hope of millions and leaving the terminally ill to their fate. The thought made him smile wryly. He didn't care; he'd always been an egoist paying little attention to what others might think of him... but maybe he should sent that list to the newspapers, the file containing knowledge of how evil most of his predecessors had been...? Compared with them, Law looked really good and definitely placed in Top 3 in regard to merits for the world... so maybe he wouldn't be judged too harshly...? He played with that idea for a moment before getting serious again.

The Ope Ope no Mi didn't belong to the mankind, and Trafalgar D. Water Law was a free man limited by nothing except love. He'd got that freedom, too, from Cora-san... and love he had for Rosapelo made him put the boy's welfare over the benefit of the rest of the world. Whatever others might say, that truth - the only truth driving him - wouldn't change.

Something made him get up from the desk and quietly open the door to his bedroom, where his son was sleeping. He stood for a moment in the doorway, listening to the teenager's even breathing, aware of the warmth spreading inside his chest.

"I love you," he said in the dark and smiled. He was under the impression he would never stop smiling.

He returned to the office with a sudden decision he would do it _tomorrow_... or, rather, today. He'd cured all patients in the waiting line, and there was no new, so the time was right. Although... No, the day after tomorrow would be better, he decided then. Tomorrow he would spend the whole day - his last day - with Rosapelo. He'd neglected the boy for two weeks. It wouldn't be fair to not take him one more time to the New Piece, or for a walk on the beach, or anywhere else the teenager wanted to go...

Although it was past midnight, he didn't feel tired enough to not read once again about the Perennial Youth Operation; he had to memorise the technique in every detail. He put on his glasses and became absorbed in the texts. It was past two when he was finally certain he knew the procedure and would be able to follow it without trouble - he'd performed a simulation in his thought and was pleased with the result - but, just in case, he put the sheet of paper describing it aside, to be able to quickly find it in need. He gathered all other papers - he'd had them spread all over his desk, divided into categories - to place them back in the folder. It seemed he hadn't missed anything - Dr Shin'ya's documentation, witness accounts, the users' file...

He froze and then knitted his brows. He raised one paper back to his eyes, for he had a funny impression he'd seen a word 'Pelo' in the text. Of course, it couldn't be possible; it was probably his tired eyes playing tricks on him - sign that it was high time to go to bed - but he still decided to look through that particular document. He quickly realised it was a personal file of him, so he'd skipped it before; after all, he knew himself best and it was pointless to read what others had written about him. Ah, then probably Rosapelo was listed as his family member; they'd lived together for over a year now, and the documents were apparently updated regularly... But no, the line 'civil status/family' was followed by empty space with no information whatsoever... so his sight moved down, trying to locate the familiar name, although at the same time he was perfectly certain he'd only imagined it.

He hadn't.

When his eyes finally found what they searched for, at first he couldn't really understand what he was looking at. He was only sitting and blinking until the black letters on the white paper seemed to become imprinted on his pupils and he was sure he would see them even when closing his eyes.

It was the line of his workplace, correctly filled with the 'Corazón Memorial Hospital', but that phrase was followed by the name of the hospital in official languages of the four oceans, and the last one was...

_Selle Sepotso Ea Pelo (SB)_

Law was staring at those words, feeling his heart beat ever faster, harder, painful in his chest. He'd never wondered how the name of his hospital sounded in other languages. On Raftel, people used only the common tongue, which was used in the Grand Line and was considered the official language of the world. When he moved his eyes over the three names - of course, he was familiar with the language of the North Blue - he realised that _Corazón_ had been translated as 'heart', with the rest meaning more or less the same. Then, when he looked at the last line... when he checked the word order... when he compared the parts of the phrase...

Finally, he got up and, absently, approached the rack. He took the South Blue dictionary and started to browse through it with his trembling hands. A sharp edge of a paper cut his finger, but he barely noticed it, only flicked the book over faster, first searching for letter P and then trailing the lines down with his finger. Pa... Pe... Peb... Pel... Pelo...

The dictionary fell off his hand, but he didn't pay any attention to it, for suddenly the whole world disappeared from his eyes and his leg would no longer bear him. He sat down on the floor and pulled up his knees, pressing both hands to his face. He felt pain in his chest and something hot trying to burst out, and he tried to contain it, for he could still remember with some part of his mind that Rosapelo was sleeping right behind the wall - but in vain. Sobbing got through the lips he'd bit till they bled, shaking his body and caring little about all attempts to stifle it... Tears made their way through his shut tight eyelids and wouldn't stop, even though he kept wiping them all the time... And finally he stopped resisting and surrendered to that emotion that seemed to be tearing him to pieces as if he never could become a whole man again... He was crying like he hadn't been crying since Corazon's death, unable to control himself - and, just like that time, he didn't know who it really was he was despairing over... He just... That shock had been too strong and too acute... and maybe it proved to him that everything had made sense from the very beginning.

The dictionary was lying on the floor, shut again, mercifully hiding its secrets. Somewhere in three-fourths through its content was a single line that had defined Trafalgar D. Water Law's world anew - or, at the very end, had given it a meaning.

**pelo** _[pe·lo]_ heart

Cora-san had found him once again.

* * *

Not so much later, Law waked up on the coach - he must have pulled himself on it at some point - with his body and soul equally sore, and still in his clothes. It took him whole five seconds to realise it was the emergency signal that had waked him. When he teleported to the dispatch room - it wasn't even four yet - he learned there had been a catastrophe of a liner from the Red Line nearby. In the fog, the ship had veered off course, hitting the rock hidden right under the water surface. Hull breaches had made the ship quickly sink, before the evacuation had been initiated; most of the people abroad had been sleeping.

Law sent all ambulances to the site - he realised that darkness would make the rescue operation very difficult - and then spent many hours saving lives, which helped him forget about the last night. It was afternoon when he finished. With the drop of adrenaline, everything that had happened at night, came to him... but he noticed that he no longer felt that sorrow that had overcome him earlier. On his way to the office - he had to sleep a bit after using the Ope Ope no Mi so intensively for many hours straight - it was the feeling that everything was obvious that was filling him, and it only strengthened his resolve. He was under the impression that the final piece of the puzzle had clicked into place, that the critical argument had appeared, one he couldn't discuss against.

But when he lay down on the coach, he couldn't fall asleep. He didn't like it that reality had once more thwarted his plans, as if trying to influence his decision... but then he asked himself if one day of delay meant anything when the whole life was in question...? His lips twitched at that thought.

"Pelo...?" he called without opening his eyes.

He hoped the boy could hear him through the open door, and it happened indeed. Judging from the creak, the teenager got up from the bed. The quiet steps could be heard, and the next moment Law felt his presence by the coach.

"Law-san...?"

"I wanted to spend this day together with you," Law said in a tired voice. "But I don't think I can do it."

"I bet you don't," Rosapelo replied in that crisp tone that Law admired so much. "You seem to need a good sleep. There was some... accident, right? You operated all the time...?"

Law smiled. "Yeah."

"Tomorrow is another day," the boy declared. "Sleep as long as you need. Recently... I think you haven't got enough sleep...? You had so much work... Wait, let me tuck you in."

Law forced himself to lift his eyelids, although it proved pretty hard. Rosapelo took the blanket from the floor and put it on him. He smiled when his eyes caught Law's gaze.

"Why are you so happy?" Law asked. "That I'm in bed and you feel better this time?" he guessed.

"Yeah."

Law snorted with resentment... but he felt that even something like that, for all his fatigue, filled him with joy. "And he even admitted it..." he muttered, closing his eyes.

"I can sit by your side until you fall asleep," Rosapelo added and, without really waiting for an answer, sat down on the floor, resting his back against the coach.

"Insolent brat..." Law said in an ever softer voice.

For some reason, sleep came over very soon.

* * *

When he waked up, it was evening. Shadow was filling the office, with the only light coming from the next room. In the meantime, Rosapelo had returned to the bed, where Law found him with a book, of course.

"Did you sleep enough?" the boy asked upon seeing him.

"I did," Law admitted, stretching. "Have you eaten a dinner?"

"No."

"Then, let me take a shower and we'll go to the canteen, okay?"

"Okay."

Water was pleasantly relaxing and refreshing at the same time; however, standing under the warm stream, Law couldn't resist the impression Rosapelo was down. Maybe he resented him for being forced to spent yet one more day alone, as Law hadn't been unavailable...? Well, Law was going to more than compensate for that... Probably.

"Where would you like to go tomorrow?" he called from the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel.

"Anywhere is fine," he heard the answer he could've expected. "I haven't gone out for ages."

"Then, we'll probably go to the New Piece."

"Good."

Law hung the towel and grabbed the comb. "How are you feeling?" he kept asking.

"Okay."

Law put on the clean clothes and returned to the room. Rosapelo was still sitting on the made bed and reading. Law gave him a close look. "Something's not right," he declared in the end.

The boy's head snapped up as he looked at him. "What...?" he asked, frowning, and then closed the book. "I'm hungry."

"Hmm... Then, let's go and eat something."

At this hour, the canteen was nearly empty. They took food and sat down by the table by the window that was showing only darkness. Despite what the boy had said, he didn't seem to have any appetite. He pushed the food around on his plate, hardly ever put anything in his mouth and wouldn't look Law in the eye.

"Pelo, what is it about?"

The teenager remained silent for a longer while. "When are we going to go home?" he asked in the end.

Law felt the tiniest shade of relief. Was it what tormented the boy? Well, it could be understood; he'd been in the hospital two weeks already...

"I thought that tomorrow we could take a day off, as I had no time for you for the last two weeks," he said. "I finally dealt with my backlog, so I can take a holiday. I planned it for today, but you see yourself how things turned out..." Rosapelo nodded silently, so Law went on, "The day after tomorrow I'll perform that operation I mentioned. I want to do it here... but then there will be no reason for you to stay here," he said with smile. "From then on, you'll watch this hospital only from a distance. I'm sure you're sick with it for one lifetime."

The teenager shrugged. Then he put the fork down and glanced at him from behind the fringe, and his eyes were hesitating. Finally, he opened his mouth... but, before he managed to speak, Law's personal Den Den Mushi made a beep and informed Law was needed immediately in the emergency department.

Law suppressed a groan. "What this time...?" he muttered in annoyance, getting up. "Pelo, you're going to wait for me here. I hope to deal with it quickly," he declared and activated the Ope Ope no Mi, wondering distractedly why it was now that fate insisted on putting spokes in his wheel. "If not, I'll ask someone to come for you."

In the emergency unit, he learned that a bloodbath had happened in a bar in Roger Bay, with many people getting injured and some in danger of dying, so every second counted. Law teleported there together with Bepo - they had to seize the perpetrator first, as he was still shooting to the customers, apparently in a drunken frenzy - and spent two hours, operating the wounded and bringing some of them back from the doorway of the kingdom of death to send them to the hospital in the stable condition.

"I wonder if it's not time that weapon should be licensed," he said when the work was done and Bepo and he were walking back to the hospital. Evening was warm, with the air smelling of summer flowers and the gentle sound of the sea filling the darkness with calm, making it hard to believe that a massacre had almost happened, right behind the corner... one that could have been prevented. "If not everywhere, then at least here. We have peace. Did you ever believe such time would arrive one day...? When we still sailed across the oceans?" he asked in the tone as if he'd just discovered something amazing.

"I don't remember," Bepo replied with a laugh. "But talk with Luffy. He can decide on that... But you must explain it to him so that he understands."

"Good idea..." Law muttered... but then realised he wouldn't be able to meet with the Pirate King again. He almost stopped in his track, and his heart suddenly beat faster.

The day after tomorrow, he planned to _die_. As for the final day of his life, tomorrow, he wished to spend with Rosapelo and no-one else. Maybe those people he'd just snatched away from death were his last patients...? he thought, looking back. As if he'd just realised it...! He had no regrets, for he believed in his decision... and yet every moment began to appear precious, amazing and meaningful... He was under the impression he could hear the clock measuring every second that was still left: the limited period of time that only few things would happen in and many would no longer happen. They passed his home, standing silent by the road from Roger Bay to the Corazon Memorial Hospital. He swept the dark windows with his eyes, stared at the bicycle by the fence and understood he would never come back here. He wouldn't see Tiger curled in a ball on the coach, he wouldn't sit down to a dinner in the living-room... In just two days, everything would end. How strange. No, he'd better not think about it.

The next moment he surprised himself. He hadn't planned to tell anyone about it, and now he felt a sudden urge to. "Bepo...?" he spoke without looking at the mink and striving to sound natural. He'd involuntarily clenched his fists and now relaxed them, taking a deep breath.

"Mhm?"

"The day after tomorrow... I'm going to use a certain technique on Rosapelo, one I haven't used before," he said. "It's going to guarantee him complete recovery."

"You managed to develop it? That's a great news!" his friend rejoiced, and Law tried not to feel guilty... especially when he heard the next words that made his heart leap, "Is there any danger to it?"

"Let's say that after the operation... I won't be able to work."

"For how long?" the mink asked lucidly.

Law didn't reply. His throat clenched. He didn't want to lie... he didn't want to lie to Bepo, but... The mink would think that it was impossible to specify in advance all effects, since a completely new technique was in question. He forced himself to speak. He told himself it was the last time he wouldn't be honest.

"We'll see."


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

August 1, that fell tomorrow and was Law's final day, came out by any means splendid. The weather was fine from the very morning; not a single cloud marked the azure sky, and soon it became quite hot, but the gentle breeze made it easy to bear with the temperature. Law thought that he was much more lucky about the day of his death that Corazon on Minion, but he quickly ordered himself to focus on different things. And he probably succeeded, for, in the evening, he admitted he'd enjoyed every moment with Rosapelo.

They went to the New Piece, that - with the weather so great and despite it being a weekend - wasn't really crowded today. Most of the Raftel citizens preferred to spend such a day on the beach or in their own gardens... and yet the two of them managed to run into the Pirate King's family, almost all Straw Hats and many hospital employees that happened to have a day off. Law was pleased to see Rosapelo talking with the younger generation, and he came to the conclusion his kid would manage. The boy had made many friends on Raftel, and they would undoubtedly support him if needed.

Rosapelo himself, however, didn't seem to enjoy the day as much as Law did. He appeared lost in thoughts, somewhat distracted and maybe even upset. When Law asked him about it, the boy would claim that he had fun, and would relax for a moment, but then he would get into his earlier mood again. Law suspected the reason for that was the surgery that awaited him; Rosapelo probably had high hopes for it, especially having been promised to that it would mean the definite end of his health issues. In the morning, right after waking up, he'd asked, 'So it's going to happen tomorrow?' Law's heart had performed some strange stunt in his chest before he'd realised that the teenager must have meant the operation. He'd confirmed, adding that today they could fully indulge in pleasant things, which had made Rosapelo nod and start to get ready for breakfast.

When they returned in the evening - warm, full and with new memories - Law was in great mood, although the same couldn't be said about the boy. Rosapelo, however, thanked for good fun, smiled once or twice, and then said he was dead tired and wanted to go to sleep. Yet, instead of going to his temporary bedroom - Law had just informed him it should be his last night in hospital - he kept standing in the doorway as if he still wanted something. It was a strange moment, and Law didn't understand its sense, but he instinctively knew that Rosapelo needed some confidence before tomorrow.

"Everything's going to be all right," he said cheerfully and smiled. The boy twitched and nodded, although he seemed to force himself to that. "Good night, Pelo."

"Good night, Law-san," the teenager answered quietly and disappeared in the next room, while Law sat down behind the desk to look through the notes about the Perennial Youth Operation, although he'd already memorised the procedure.

However, he didn't get to read, because after some five minutes the door to the bedroom was opened again, revealing Rosapelo, who still had his clothes on. The teenager spent a moment standing in the same spot as before, before walking to the coach to sit on its edge and clasp his hands.

"Law-san... I'd like to talk with you," he said and then cleared his throat, as his voice was quite raspy. "To ask you about something."

Law put down his glasses and moved his chair closer. The surgery was clearly on the boy's mind... "Then ask," he replied with a smile.

"How exactly did Corazon-san die?"

Law blinked, and his eyebrows went up almost to his hairline. He hadn't expected such question. Even if he thought for ten years, it wouldn't occur to him that Rosapelo might ask about that. It hadn't interested him for a year and a half. Since Law had once told him the story - when they boy had been still in psychiatry - they would never return to that. Sure, the teenager would ask about Corazon but never about _that_. Why today?

"Why do you want to know that?"

"I just want," the boy replied, shaking his head impatiently. "Won't you tell me?"

Law remained silent, wondering frantically about what he should do. Refuse? But why? There was no reason to refuse... but if he did tell the story, then it would be passed on, that story of tragedy but also of terrible beauty. The story of valour and unconditional love. The story of someone who had stopped at nothing to save another man. He felt warmth spread in his chest and wasn't able to suppress his smile. Corazon deserved it: to live in the memory of those who had never met him. If Law took that memory to his grave, then no-one would know the truth about life and death of Donquixote Rosinante.

He focused his eyes on the boy and nodded. After all, recently he'd been thinking quite a lot about the man who he owed almost everything to. "I told you that after my homeland had been destroyed I had joined the pirate crew in the North Blue," he started. "It was called the Donquixote Family, from the name of the captain. They were defeated almost fifteen years ago, and their leader was sentenced to life imprisonment in Impel Down. Corazon was his little brother, his real name was Donquixote Rosinante, but, being one of the top officers answering only to the captain, he was called with his codename, while we... the kids in the Family... called him _Cora-san_, although he treated us terribly, he could hit a person, kick or even throw out of the window out of the blue. Later, I learned that, in fact, he'd tried to discourage us, drive the kids away from the Family... See, Cora-san... Rosinante was really a Marine..."

"A Marine?!" Rosapelo called out, surprised.

Law nodded. He told what he'd learned from Sengoku-san: how Rosinante had run away from his brother as a little kid and had been taken in by the Admiral, to later join the Navy and go back to Doflamingo.

"He infiltrated the Family to spy on his brother. For many years, he provided the Navy with the intel that could help to catch the Donquixote Pirates, but it wouldn't occur to anyone to suspect him, as he was the captain's brother... Moreover, he was considered to be an absent-minded idiot and clumsy mute, whose only valour was his crazy strength. He was really clumsy... he had two left hands and legs, he was able to fall over even when sitting," he said, and Rosapelo's eyes turned round. "No-one sane would suspect him to be a spy, so he spent many years deceiving his supposed comrades. But when he took me on that crazy journey, they slowly started to understand he wasn't who they'd thought him to be for all those years," he added in a softer voice before turning silent altogether.

Like always, he felt pang of guilt in his heart. If not for him, Cora-san would... But such regrets were futile, they'd been completely futile for almost thirty years. And now he already knew why all of that had happened.

"On the journey to find the cure for your illness, right?" Rosapelo's voice interrupted his reverie, so he focused his sight again and resume talking.

"Yes. We visited probably all hospitals in the North Blue, but no-one could help me. Yet, half a year later we learned we could gain the Ope Ope no Mi." He went silent, thinking what words he should choose. "The leader of the Family wanted to get it, as it would give him almost unlimited power... He contacted us, wished that Cora-san returned and helped him during the operation. He also said that I could be cured from the Amber Lead Syndrome, so all the more reason for us to get back... At that point, he probably knew that Cora-san wasn't his ally, but even if he only suspected it, that situation could prove if Cora-san was loyal to him," he explained. "But Cora-san didn't want that the Ope Ope no Mi got in his brother's hands; he decided to snatch it and give it to _me_. He learned where the Devil Fruit could be found, and we sailed there, to Minion island, in the far north of the North Blue... I was already very ill, weak with fever, but somehow we managed to get there in time. And Cora-san really claimed the Ope Ope no Mi before his brother came..."

Before his eyes, he could see Minion again, covered with white, with the ever falling snow that deadened all sounds. A silent island that had been abandoned long ago, a island that had become the end and beginning for Law... although it had been only the end for Corazon. Corazon had lived only in Law's heart, in Law's hospital, and even in Rosapelo... 'His name, too, means heart,' he remembered, concentrating his gaze on the boy, who was sitting on the coach and observing him with his intensely blue eyes, clearly awaiting for the story to continue.

"Cora-san got the Ope Ope no mi with his bare hands even though he had to face the whole pirate crew," Law said. "And then he did everything to bring it to me. He was shot many times and then also brutally beaten, but he still protected me. He kept fighting in any way he could. When his brother finally arrived on the island and learned that what he yearned for had been stolen from under his nose, Cora-san still thought of the way to save me. You see, his brother sealed the island with his powers so that no-one could escape - he didn't want to let me escape since he could use the Ope Ope no Mi using me - but Cora-san outwitted him anyway. He made me hide in a treasure chest, convinced that the pirates would take it aboard their ship without even looking inside. Then he let himself be caught and deceived his brother that I was no longer there, that I was already beyond his reach, even though I was right there. There was only one thing that he didn't lie about: he revealed the truth about himself... about being a Marine and having spied on the Donquixote Family for years... That, of course, made his brother furious... and made him pull the trigger."

Rosapelo's eyes became wide again. "He killed his own brother?" he asked dully.

"Yes... just like he'd killed his father, many years earlier. He was a monster that wished only to destroy and didn't respect anyone, anything... that wasn't capable of any higher emotion, Pelo," Law said, recalling his recent meeting with Doflamingo. "You could even feel sorry for him, if he wasn't the most evil man that has ever walked on this earth. Apparently, all ability to love had gone to his brother..."

"It's not fair that the good one died and the evil one survived," Rosapelo stated, sounding very like a child this time.

"That's right, it's not fair," Law replied in a soft voice.

The teenager stared at him intently for a longer moment. He clearly wanted to say something; he opened his mouth several times, only to close them again. Law didn't rush him. He knew well that it wasn't easy to address such things, even though Rosapelo had once heard that story, albeit in a stripped-down version. He remembered that talk, from one year and a half ago... That time, the memory had shaken him and made him feel terrible pain... but now that the wound had already healed, it was much easier to talk about that, although still not without emotion. He realised he'd clenched his fists at some point. He relaxed them and wiped the sweaty hands on the fabric of his trousers, taking a deep breath and keep it in his lungs for a moment.

"How did you feel then, Law-san?" Rosapelo finally asked, clutching his fingers on his clothes himself. "You managed to escape... right? But how did you _feel?_ "

Well, that was the least pleasant part of the story, and Law would gladly skip it, but he had agreed to this conversation... "I almost went crazy," he said outright.

Rosapelo's eyes, wide again, were absorbing him. "You said you wanted to die... right?" he asked in a lower but still distinct voice.

Law nodded. "I felt horrible. I felt terribly guilty. It was my fault that Cora-san had died. If not for me, he would've lived... I felt just like you've just described: that the wrong person had died. It was obvious I was the one who should have died, not him. After all, I was terminally ill... and yet it was the opposite."

The boy's fists on his lap clenched so hard that the knuckles turned white, but it was his only move, and he barely seemed to breathe. He was still piercing Law with the gaze of his blue eyes. "It must have been very hard on you," he said in a voice too calm to be natural, especially that he was sitting straight and tense like a string. "First, you lost your family, and then the only man who took care of you... and who... loved you?" Law nodded. "And who you... loved...?" One more nod. Rosapelo gasped for air. "It's no wonder you plunged into despair... Do you still think that? That it was wrong for you to live?"

Law shook his head and, unexpected also to himself, he smiled. "No," he replied with calm that filled him. "Now I can understand why he did that... why he'd decided to sacrifice everything in order to help me... I understand why he couldn't do otherwise."

"You understand..." Rosapelo repeated. He seemed lost in thought, but his next words were sharp as a razor and almost challenging, "And you would do the same thing?"

Smile vanished from Law's face as quickly as it had appeared. "What's wrong about it?"

The boy said nothing - for a longer while, he only returned Law's gaze in the dim light of the room - and then abruptly got up. "I'm going to sleep," he announced and made for the bedroom. "Good night, Law-san."

Law turned in the chair, following him with his eyes. "Pelo...? Wait...!" he called. "Why do I feel you're mad at me?"

The teenager slowly turned to him, his hand on the handle, and once more pierced Law with his eyes; now that he was looking down, the impression was even better than before. "I don't know," he said in a cold voice. "Maybe I think you should be more angry with him."

Law knitted his brows. "Angry... What? How could I be angry with him?" The very idea was absurd. "He saved my life... he saved not only my body, but also my soul. If not for him, I would've died there, in the Donquixote Family, like the most wretched criminal... I owe him everything."

Rosapelo snorted. "But he left you alone!" he called. "He abandoned a kid who had no-one else. How many years did you grieve for him? How many years it took for you to bounce back? You think that love can justify everything... even suffering? Why, it doesn't seem to me that you were happy after what you'd experienced... quite the contrary..."

Law felt he went pale. "Pelo, I forbid you from saying such things! There was no other way! I don't think he was happy to die... there, on Minion. I suppose he'd _rather_ live..."

"You 'suppose'...? 'He would rather'...?" the teenager asked with obvious irony, but Law ignored it.

"Sure I was sometimes mad at him," he confessed, realising it. "But I'm well aware that no matter how mad I might be at him, it wouldn't have changed his resolve. It wouldn't have changed his decision. He did all that without asking my opinion," he muttered before shaking his head. "And then there was no point in being mad. I had to be reasonable... to understand that I couldn't change what had happened, no matter how I wished that... And thus I'm not having you talk things that insult his memory and question what he did. Let me remind you that, had it been not for Cora-san, I wouldn't be here now... And I couldn't help _you_."

"But..." Rosapelo started, agitated, but then he apparently bit his tongue, as, in the end, he said in a much colder voice, "Good night, Law-san. See you tomorrow."

Law wondered what it was the boy had wanted to say... Maybe, 'But you haven't helped me so far!'... Well, only until tomorrow. Tomorrow, he would help him in the best way, the most definite and reliable way... yet the teenager's words were still hurting him, especially that Rosapelo didn't seem to see anything wrong them.

"Pelo... Why are you saying such things? Why today? I don't like this conversation..."

"We're going to finish it in the morning, okay?" the boy interrupted him. "Now, I fear I could say something I might regret."

'I think you already did,' Law thought,

"Okay, Law-san?" Rosapelo asked with emphasis, looking him in the eye.

"Okay, we're going to talk tomorrow. Sleep well," Law said.

"You too," the boy replied in a quiet voice and slipped in the bedroom, closing the door behind. He didn't show again, and Law had no idea if he was relieved about it or the contrary...

He moved closer to the desk and put his elbows on it, then rested his forehead on his clasped fingers. His heart was beating at a disquieting pace, his chest felt heavy, and his mouth tasted like ash. Why had Rosapelo said that? Why had he chosen the words that caused pain? Normally, he was a kind person who never said things that might hurt other people... This day was so pleasant, too... devoid of any bad content until the evening. Why had Rosapelo ruined it?

Then, however, he realised that the boy had been in a bad mood since morning, and it probably had spoken up in the end. Besides... Rosapelo was fourteen, and it was the age that kids used to be irritable without reason and the smallest thing could make them explode. Even if Law hadn't expected the evening to turned out as it had, he shouldn't attach any importance to what had happened. He remembered the previous time that the boy and he had got into an argument, only one month ago... and what had it ended with: Clione's talk concluding that Law was a total git with inclination to overreacting, especially in interpreting other's behaviours... well, at least, Rosapelo's behaviours.

He breathed deeply when affection filled his heart again, soothing the earlier agitation, and then smile stretched his lips. He couldn't be angry with the boy. He loved him immensely and insanely, he obsessively admired him, every part of him, every trait of character, every gesture and action. He wanted that everything in Rosapelo made him happy... and he could forgive him anything. No, he didn't even think there was anything to forget. For him, Rosapelo was the greatest miracle. He was someone worth to die for, and without hesitating.

He was under the impression that something relating to this topic escaped his perception... that there was something he should profoundly think over... that he forgot some specific matter or consciously ignored it... but he decided it couldn't be anything important. His plan had been made, his motivation was pure, and his resolve was unwavering. There was no point in wondering about it; there wasn't even any point in reading about the Perennial Youth Operation again, as he knew it in every detail already. However, he realised he should leave some guidance notes to his personnel. He didn't want that panic spread in the Corazon Memorial Hospital; the facility should keep working, even without the Ope Ope no Mi. Maybe one day... when the next user would be born and decide to devote himself to medicine, too... this hospital - the best hospital in the world - would wait for him or her...? This vision wasn't bad... although Law didn't really feel like wondering about the future that didn't concern him...

He thought he had to make a will, too, to pass the house and all belongings to Rosapelo... even though an immortal man probably wouldn't need to bother his head about such things like living conditions. All of the sudden, that part of him ever curious and thirsty for knowledge spoke up, and he thought he wished he could see it... see with his own eyes the effects of that unique, miraculous operation... but then he remembered it wasn't possible. He had to settle with knowing that he could do it... and that miracle would last until the end of time.

When both documents were done - it had taken longer he'd expected - he decided to get some sleep. He could spend his last night waking, but he had to be at his best tomorrow. The Perennial Youth Operation demanded that one approached it with due respect - especially when it was to be used on their beloved person.

He fell asleep with smile.

* * *

When he waked up, the room was bright. His inner clock told him it was around eight. He was amazed by having slept until morning, but for some reason he felt terribly tired... devoid of energy, even. He turned his head and it seemed that simple move demanded all his strength. "What the hell...?" he uttered, but even his voice seemed weak.

Rosapelo was next to him. It seemed that the boy had slept sitting, resting against the coach, as he now raised his head to look at Law. Then he wiped his eyes and yawned. "Good morning, Law-saaaaa..."

Law blinked, staring at the boy's face just half a metre from his own, trying to understand anything. "Pelo... Why am I so-..."

He activated the Ope Ope no Mi... or, rather, wanted to do it, but nothing happened. He only felt something tickle him inside - he probably imagined it - and that was all. He couldn't reach his Devil Fruit. For a moment, he thought it was some sick dream, then tried again, and again... and then realised that impression was familiar to him. He'd experienced it not so long ago - actually, just one week ago - when he'd had the Seastone Cuffs in Impel Down.

He suppressed his panic and raised his both arms. On the right wrist, he saw a thin ring that certainly hadn't been there when he'd gone to sleep. It looked like a simple bracelet, but he knew right away he'd found the reason for his weakness. "What's that?" he asked although he didn't even need.

"A gift from me," Rosapelo replied without emotion, and then, when Law turned his head again and focused his eyes on him, he added, "I put it on you the last night, when you fell asleep," and now something trembled in his voice.

Law touched the bracelet with his left hand, but he immediately felt his fingers go numb. His both arms fell back on his chest. He stared at the ceiling; it was what he could see the best from this position. "It's made of Seastone," he said with calm he didn't really feel. Or maybe he did? It seemed he was in some torpor. Well, if he had that ring on himself for the _whole night_, it fully explained that state of physical and psychological inertness... "It blocks the powers of my Devil Fruit. As a gift, it's perfectly missed."

"Quite the contrary. I don't think there's anything more suitable in this situation," the boy said, and Law stared at him again.

"In this si-... What? Would you be so kind and take it off me, Pelo? If you put it on, than you should be able to take it off, too. I don't like such jokes."

"It's not a joke!" Rosapelo shouted. "Unless this is a joke, too?" He reached for something on the floor - his hand was trembling - and then put some paper under Law's nose.

Law recognised it came from the files about the Ope Ope no Mi... and this particular document contained the description of the Perennial Youth Operation. "You shouldn't have read my papers," he mumbled. "Even though I _did_ left them in plain sight..."

"That is that miraculous treatment method of my sickness?! THAT?!" he boy yelled, waving the paper next to Law's face.

Law said nothing only closed his eyes. Then he mustered his all strength... and sat up on the coach, letting his feet down on the floor. "Such a ring isn't enough to stop me, Pelo," he said calmly, then opened his eyes again and looked at the boy, who moved back, his expression clearly confused. "Whoever was your informant, they forgot to warn you that Trafalgar Law isn't your average Devil Fruit user. Unless you didn't mention I was in question...? You know, I would be in trouble if you put it on my _neck_."

Even if Seastone had had the whole night to work and absorb his energy, Law was too powerful to let a stupid piece of mineral defeat him. He didn't need long to control his body again. Preparing for dizziness, he got up and then focused on staying on his feet. He was certain he could do it. When the room stopped spinning, he took one step towards the door, and then another... First of all, he had to get rid of this filth.

"Law-san, what are you doing...?" now Rosapelo's voice rang with obvious anxiety, and then the boy jumped to his feet. "Where are you going? Law-san?!"

Law said nothing; he didn't want to waste his energy. He knew where he was going: to surgery. There, he would have his hand cut off, which would remove the problem, and then reattached it with his powers again. He almost felt sorry for Rosapelo for that failed attempt... but now wasn't time for feelings; he had to focus entirely on his task. He opened the door and went into the corridor, then headed for the lift, while Rosapelo shot off right behind him. Law noticed that the boy was wearing yesterday's clothes... He probably had slept much shorter than he last night, he thought, pressing the button to call the lift.

"Law-san, you don't plan..." Rosapelo grabbed his arm, and now there was a sheer terror in his eyes. Maybe he'd understood what Law had meant about putting Seastone on his neck... Well, he wouldn't be given another chance. "Law-san! You can' do it! Stop it! Law-san, you can't...!"

Two heads appeared in the canteen doors, alarmed by the boy's raised voice. However, before either of them managed to react, Law said, "Everything is all right. I'll take care of it," which made the owners of the heads vanish from his sight again.

The lift wouldn't come; it seemed to be stopping at every floor. True, many people started working at eight, so he had to be patient. On his part, Rosapelo didn't stop tugging on his sleeve and kept calling his name. Law tried to ignore him as well as he could, which didn't prove difficult in this state of torpor... he only had to be careful that the boy didn't accidentally push him over. Just a little longer, just a little while, he told himself... He would soon get rid of that nasty thing and-

"What's happening here?" a painfully familiar voice came from the stairs, and Law, despite his numbness, understood his luck had run out.

They both looked that way to see - Law with stirring of anger, Rosapelo with hope - the head psychiatrist, who was observing them with perfectly calm expression and concentrated vigilance in his slate blue eyes. Right, Rosapelo's cries must have been heard one floor down, too... Clione had been probably getting in or out of his office and, of course, couldn't leave it be... Law felt like grinding his teeth.

"Nothing's ha-"

"Clione-san...!" Rosapelo called and, tears in his eyes, darted towards the psychiatrist. "He-"

Law had no idea what made him grab the boy's arm - probably some defence instinct - but the next second he knew he shouldn't have done this. Rosapelo, pulled back sharply, lost his balance and fell on the floor, and Law certainly didn't imagine the sound of cracking that could be heard. The teenager's face contorted with pain, and he went pale. Two tears tore off from his eyelashes, but he bit his lips and didn't even moaned. It was Law who moaned, squatting by him with a sudden anxiety grabbing his heart.

"Pelo... What-"

"I'm fine."

"Pelo, I must-"

"I said I'm fine...!"

It was obvious Rosapelo had got something broken, but the resolve on his face and his voice made it clear he wouldn't talk about it now. In the meantime, more and more onlookers appeared in the corridor, Law's secretary had left her office and was now observing the scene anxious, and Clione kept shifting his gaze between the two of them, trying to understand what it was about and respond accordingly. Law knew he had very little time until the situation spun out of control, he had to do something...

But Rosapelo was faster. When Clione finally took a step towards them, the boy grabbed Law's sleeve again and said in a very calm tone, "Come back... Let's go back to your office. Okay, Law-san?"

And Law understood that he could either insist on going to surgery department, risking that in the meantime Rosapelo told Clione about everything - he would certainly do - or do how the boy asked... and risk the conversation he didn't want and had tried to avoid. Those two options, both bad, fought inside him for a moment. He really wanted to get rid of that bracelet and be able to use the Ope Ope no Mi to heal Rosapelo's injury, but... He glanced at Clione, who'd stopped and didn't come near although was ready to do so - he must have long since realised something was wrong when Law hadn't used his Devil Fruit to help the boy - and then at the teenager, who was still sitting on the floor and breathing quickly without letting go of his sleeve.

He clenched his jaws... then nodded and got up, offering the boy his hand. "Can you walk?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," Rosapelo replied in a whisper and rose, only to moan and lean all his weight on Law the next moment. He had to have a broken leg. "Let's go," he said nonetheless, grabbing Law's arm so hard it was painful.

To Law, that dozen of metres they had to walk, seemed like an ordeal. Not because of his weakness but rather because everything in him wanted that he go somewhere else to get rid of that cursed bracelet on his right wrist that blocked his powers... making him unable to help his suffering kid. Yet, he'd made his decision and intended to stick to it. He felt Clione's piercing voice on his back, but for some reason the psychiatrist hadn't moved from the spot... He'd decided to give the two of them a chance to settle things, Law understood in a sudden realisation, although it didn't make him feel any better.

After a while that seemed an eternity, they reached the office. The moment Law closed the door, Rosapelo slid onto the floor with a moan. His eyes were full of tears, this time tears of pain that made Law's inside twist and his mouth fill with bitterness. He sat down next to the boy - actually, he slumped heavily on the carpet - and extended his hand.

"Take it off. I'll take care of your fracture."

The boy shook his head, pressing his lips tight, but then he sniffed.

"Pelo, don't be silly," Law said with the slightest note of impatience. "I want to heal your injury, and I can't do it now."

The teenager, however, shook his head again. His blue eyes were opened wide, but his expression was that of an obstinacy. "You can't treat me against my will," he replied in a breaking voice. "That's what's written in the patient rights."

"You're underage, Pelo," Law pointed out. "In this case, I can decide for you... if you don't know what's best for you."

"Not when the child is over twelve, mature enough and of sound mind, and can clearly express their will. In that case, it must be respected," Rosapelo corrected. "There's nothing wrong with my head... though I'm so scared I could go crazy any moment," he added more quietly and lowered his head, then wiped his tears rolling down his cheeks.

Law hunched and said nothing. He felt terrible - both in body and in soul... It shouldn't look like this. It was supposed to be happy, exalted and perfect... and now they were just sitting on the floor... one with his leg broken and the other chained up in Seastone and barely able to move. Once more, he tried to get the bracelet off his wrist, but the effect was the same as before, and he knew there was no use to waste his already depleted strength.

"Law-san... you mustn't do it," Rosapelo spoke again, sniffing. "You can't perform that operation... I refuse to allow it."

"Well, at present I can't, indeed..." Law muttered with irony.

The teenager wiped his eyes again and bit his lips. He remained silent for a longer while, trying to collect himself. "Why did you... why did it occur to you?" he asked in the end, and his voice was quiet.

"Because I didn't find any other way to make sure you'll be healthy," Law replied at once in a calm tone. "To make sure you'll live. I don't want you to die, and yet I'm scared all the time that it's going to happen any time soon," he said outright and added with emphasis, "You must live, Pelo. It's the only thing that matters."

The boy shook his head, his lips twitched, and his eyes filled with new tears. He covered his face with his hands and kept shaking his head, repeating, "No... No..."

"It's the only thing I can do," Law explained patiently, containing his emotions, although the teenager's despair made his heart wrench in pain. "I tried many things, but I couldn't help you. All that's left is that method, the best and most reliable."

Rosapelo lowered his hands. "You don't even know if it's going to work...!" he said faintly.

"It's going to work, and perfectly," Law replied flatly. "You read... what's written there. It guarantees _eternal life_ to the person who undergoes it. Eternal life, Pelo! It means you'll be immune to every injury, every illness. You'll remain healthy, and no-one will be able to hurt you...!"

"What the hell will I do with eternal life?!" the boy called in a strangled whisper. "I don't want... I don't need it...!"

"You don't know what you're talking about," Law rebuked him, knitting his brows. "Immortality is the greatest dream of humanity since-"

"So what that it wrote so?" the teenager interrupted him, irritated. His voice was still breaking, but anger seemed to give him strength. "Do you know that man who underwent that operation? Have you met him? Talked to him? They didn't write a thing about it. Not a single thing! Maybe it's only a fairy tail, some legend... some crazy fabrication that would lead only to one thing: death. You have no guarantee that it will work... that the effect will be as you assume...! And it that case..." he gulped, "you'll sacrifice your life in vain... And I'll be left with my illness and no-one will be able to help me... and I'll die for real, as no-one will be able to save me."

"That's not going to happen, Pelo," Law assured him. "And whatever I'll do, it won't be in vain."

The boy shook his head again. He stopped wiping his tears that were still flowing, and only occasionally sniffed and gulped, but he wouldn't lower his eyes. "I was so foolish... I thought I meant something... to you," he said in a quiet voice, and Law's heart filled with hot affection... and it was the first so fierce, so distinct emotion since he'd waked up with that cursed bracelet on his hand.

"You mean more than life to me," he replied, although his throat stung. "I'd die for you..."

"I don't want you to DIE for me!" Rosapelo yelled, and his tearful voice rang with anger again. "I want you to live for me... with me! Is it so hard to understand?!"

Law blinked... and then averted his eyes, for suddenly he couldn't bear the boy's gaze. "It's not like that... I wish I could... and I don't want to leave you... But there's no other way," he whispered in a pained tone.

"Oh really?" Rosapelo called, and this time there was an obvious sarcasm to his words. "And I think that you just want to die very much and nothing would stop you. You're using me as a very convenient excuse to kill yourself, Law-san! Nothing else!"

Law hunched even more. "No, you're wrong..." he objected weakly.

"Am I now?!" the teenager exploded. "It really looks so from my point of view. You claim you're doing it for me... but, in fact, you don't think at all about how _I_ will feel about it. Not at all! You want me to spend the rest of my life feeling guilty? Or maybe even the whole eternity? Law-san, do you think I'll be grateful and happy if you _die_ for me? You, of all people, should understand it! You're going to do the very exact thing Corazon-san had done to you! Is it some revenge for what you suffered yourself? Some kind of revenge on your fate... or him? He hurt you, made you despair for years-"

Law's head snapped up, when the anger from the last night overcame him again. Rosapelo could insult him, but not Corazon...! "You don't know what you're saying!" he called. "I won't listen to such things! Cora-san did nothing wrong, you can't blame him...! He fought until the very end, he didn't go there for _death_... he just _had_ to choose it on the last turn...!" he shouted, clenching his fists and glaring at the boy... who didn't seem to care much about his rage.

"That's right, and what are you doing? You're offering yourself to death on a silver plate, you go like the cattle to the slaughterhouse without moving one finger to object. Yes, Corazon-san died like a warrior, and you?" Rosapelo reached out to touch his chest. "You, Law-san, you haven't even taken up the fight! You chose the most simple, the easiest way to escape the remorse, responsibility, and weight of living... Using the words, 'There's no other way' and 'I'm doing it for you'... you created yourself the occasion to finally leave! Now, deny it if you can! Well?! Deny it!"

Law stared at him in silence. He was looking at his tousled hair, at his face wet of tears and quivering lips... and eyes without a single shadow of doubt. Blue gaze was piercing him as Rosapelo wouldn't look away. Another warm surge filled Law's heart - along with pride he felt looking at that wonderful being that, for a little while, had become his son. How far had he gone from an uncertain boy to that young man capable of making his point in decisive words and demanding...! It didn't matter what he was saying, Law would forgive him at once. Now, too, his anger subsided as fast as it had arisen. He admired Rosapelo and knew he had to protect the flame of his life for all cost.

"You may call me a coward," he said softly. "You may call me whatever you wish... it's all the same, I don't care. I've always been an egoist and-"

The teenager made a sound of a frustration mixed with disbelief. "No!" he shouted. "Don't hide behind your egoism now... though you must be the only one to believe it anyway." Then his eyes narrowed, and he raised his chin a bit. "But if we are to compete who is more selfish... then how do you like it? If you do it... if you perform that Perennial Youth Operation, or what its name is, then let me assure you that I'll take my life right afterwards."

Law went pale. "You wouldn't do it," he whispered.

"Oh but I'll do," the boy replied, nodding with conviction. "You may be certain I'll do. I don't believe that being immortal would protect me from a... suicide. And that's something that I've already tried... haven't I?"

Law was staring at him with his eyes wide open, feeling as if he'd been hit... as if he'd been dealt a blow to his very heart. He clenched his jaws, and his fingers dug into the carpet. Oh, how wrong had he been, thinking that Rosapelo's words didn't matter... that he could ignore them... _That_, he couldn't ignore...! "Why...?" he asked in a dull voice.

The boy tilted his head. "Maybe because I'm not as strong as you are, Law-san...?" he said lucidly. "Because I won't be able to live with such a burden...? Even if you were given a gift - for it was really a gift, Corazon-san saved your life when you were terminally ill - my situation is different."

Seastone could no longer protect Law from emotions that jumped at him, causing pain, no matter how hard he tried to cut himself off from them. Despair, disbelief, defeat, frustration, anger - and all coming from love that got stronger with every passing moment. What wouldn't that kid see it reasonably? Why... "Different? Pelo, you don't understand-"

"No, it's you who doesn't understand, Law-san..." Rosapelo interrupted him and took a deep breath. "Trafalgar Law, how can you be such an idiot?! I am not _dying!_"

Law banged his fist on the floor. "But you could die!" he cried in despair. "Tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, in one month...! Two weeks ago you almost died... If I hadn't found you in time, you would be dead now, do you realise it? And if it happened indeed, then I... I wouldn't survive... I'm perfectly certain of it! I don't want to see you suffering, Pelo. I want to do everything to- There's no price I wouldn't pay to save you, can you comprehend it, you silly boy?! Every parent wishes to save his child, even if he were to die! When it comes to choosing: you or I, then the choice is obvious!" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Since I was thirteen, I kept people at a distance so that I would never become attached to anyone and never lose beloved person again," he said in a lower voice. "But then I met you, and it just happened that I lost my head over you. I didn't want it, but now I can't imagine living without you, Pelo. Can you understand it? Can you understand how it feels to be someone who once lost all important people... and then, despite himself, despite all attempt, happened to love again...?" he whispered, looking at him and feeling his throat clench. "I love you... and that's why your welfare is of the highest priority."

The boy's eyes filled with tears again. "Why are you so sad about it...?" he whispered, and his lips quivered. "Just like the last time..."

Law blinked. "When...?"

"Then... at night..." Rosapelo sniffed again, but could no longer contain his sob. In spite of that, he kept talking, as if compelled... as if he'd wanted to throw out what had been tormenting him for some time. "And then... I heard you... I heard you... crying... That's how I... figured something was wrong... And then I found that folder... and read it... And understood that... that miraculous method is nothing else than- And I asked Franky to give me something to stop you... so that you won't-" He buried his face in his hands, and the crying shook his body.

Law reached out to touch him... but then he remembered he couldn't do it and withdrew his arm. He had to sever that bond, there was no other way... But Rosapelo had said that... No, Law had to convince him... as soon as possible... "Pelo, let's get this over with," he said quietly, although he was trembling all over inside. "Look, it's the best thing I can do for you..."

"No!" the boy took his hands from his face and glared at him. He was angry again, fury seemed to be radiating even from the tips of his hair... and Law thought distractedly that such moodiness, typical for teenagers, is wonderful, too. "It won't happen, I won't let you do it!" he cried out and then shook his head before looking at him again. "You're wrong, you're so wrong about it... Are you even listening to me? Have you heard a single word of what I said?! It feels like I'm talking to a wall... like my words doesn't matter at all..." He paused, and his eyes turned wide, with some guilt flashing in them. "Is it because I never told you... I love you, Law-san?" he asked in a softer voice, averting his gaze, but then he gulped and looked at him again. "I love you," he said more firmly. "I was... I _am_ happy with you. When my mom died, when I was left all alone... You took care of me after I lost everything. You gave me home, wanted to be with me... You convinced me to live on, convince me that it was worth it, that everything would be all right... I didn't believe I could be happy again, and yet I was. I'm not going to give up on that happiness. Just like you... I don't want to lose you. Just like you, I can't imagine my life without you. I don't want you to die for me," he repeated his earlier words, and his eyes filled with tears again. "I don't want that you... die. There's no need for that...! You can't convince me that it's the only way, no chance...!"

Law averted his eyes... but the next moment Rosapelo grabbed him by the shirt and pulled towards himself, so that their heads almost touched and Law could feel his warm breath on his face.

"Law-san... If you kill yourself, I will never forgive you," the boy said quietly, pressingly and with complete confidence. "And I'll throw away the immortality because, without you, it will be a curse. So your... sacrifice," he almost spat out that word, "will go to waste." Then, however, he added in a more gentle voice, almost whispering, "But I'd rather... that it's not fear guiding you, only- If what you said... if you really love me..." He shook his head. "No, the reason isn't important. I just want that you _live_."

He took a deep breath, but he wouldn't let go of him. His eyes were focused, their intense blue filling all sight, and Law felt absorbed and paralysed by them. He wouldn't be able to budge, even if his life depended on it. He could barely breathe.

"You're not going to lose me, Law-san," Rosapelo continued, and his voice was now hard as steel, even though it wasn't much louder than a whisper. "I'm not dying. You know what's the problem here? You always want to do everything by yourself, you take all responsibility on your shoulders, while there are others... many people who wish... who could help you. I asked Franky to built some equipment to protect me from breaking my bones... And Clione-san is going to give me a psychotherapy because he suspects that my falls may be of psychogenic nature... And if needed, I can stay here, even ten years. I won't leave from your side, I won't risk any harm. I can even stay in bed. I'm ready to do it... and I will do it without a second thought, no matter how hard it might be," he declared and then moved away, releasing his grip and withdrawing his hand.

When the physical contact was broken, Law had a ridiculous feeling of loss, but Rosapelo was still holding him: with his eyes.

"What would you say, Law-san? Do we have a deal?" he asked. "Because it's not about the words... it's not about just saying 'I love you'..." he gulped, "but about proving it, too. And I'm ready to give up on everything my peers have so that I could have what they don't have: you. So you, too, instead of taking the easier way, show me that you're ready to make an effort. You promised... you said that there was no trouble we couldn't solve together. I believed that. I believed in everything I heard from you... starting from those first moments from the previous winter. You saved me, do you remember it? Only thanks to you... only because of you I decided to live. It didn't change. If I don't die, it's thanks to you. And if I die, then it's because of you as well." He breathed deeply. "What you say and what you intend... it doesn't match, Law-san. If you still want to that... then I'll never believe that I ever mattered anything to you. It'll feel as if you abandoned me because I was worthless."

Law twitched, as those words hurt him to the core. How... How could Rosapelo doubt it? "I love you..." he said helplessly, in despair. "Isn't it enough to die for you?"

Rosapelo shook his head. "It's far too little."

Law was staring at him in silence that was ringing with the words... and they couldn't be drowned out even by the ever faster heartbeat, pumping blood to his ears. He heard them, he'd heard them all, only... For the first time since the beginning of this conversation, he started to _consider_ them... every sentence, every accusation, every request, every demand... He couldn't stand it that Rosapelo didn't believe him... but maybe... he _had_ a reason for that?

Was there really _no other way?_ True, Rosapelo wasn't dying, not now... It was just that his medical condition came with a risk of dying, and Law wanted to get around it... for he was scared of losing him. He was scared... no, he was _terrified_ like never before that the boy would die. That terror would every day gnaw at his insides, and he could barely contain his screaming. But it didn't really have to happen now or anytime soon... If they were careful, the risk could be minimised. And if they could succeed, then only here, in the best hospital in the world, too.

Then, wasn't it really about Law... _wishing_ to die? The words Rosapelo had said in anger were now echoing in his head... and sounding so familiar as if they were his own thoughts. Yes, he was tired of living. Yes, he felt guilty. Yes, he wanted to escape. He'd lived for three decades driven only by his desire to compensate for evil he'd never stopped feeling responsible for. He felt he shouldn't have lived... even less experienced happiness. He felt that his life would be worth anything _only_ if he sacrificed it for something noble: if he gave it for someone else. Didn't it seem obvious to him that the only proper action was to say 'I love you' to the most important man and then go and die for him...? Just like Corazon had done, turning into the best role model. He respected Corazon, respected his actions and resolve... and had made his life into a memorial to the man who he owed everything to. Everything!

But wasn't Rosapelo right about that, too? Wasn't it that Corazon's death - even though it had saved him - had given him misery and despair that he hadn't been able to shake off for years... decades, even? He delved into his feelings now, brushed aside awe and rapture, admiration and gratitude, to find beneath them, somewhere deep down in his soul, also anger, disappointment... maybe even hate. For having been left alone. For having been given and then taken away. For having been hurt. And... yes, he'd thought it hadn't matched: that first Cora-san had told him 'I love you' and then had gone to be killed the very next moment. How could he believe him after that? How could he drive away the feeling he'd been, in fact... lied to? Sure, he'd covered all those negative emotions and regrets with logic and remorse, had taken and remembered only those good things, for - in order to retain his sanity - _he'd had no other choice..._

...but now he remembered that, when they'd been on their way to Minion to get the Ope Ope no Mi, that could save him... he hadn't thought at all about his survival. What had mattered was that Cora-san had been there, with him, keeping him safe, caring about him, being present... And when Law had waited for him, in fever and pain, fighting with death that had already tried to snatch him, then the only thing he'd felt was desire to see Cora-san once more... and fear that he wouldn't come back, that something had happened to him... And when he had come back, declaring victory and bringing salvage, then the only thing Law had felt was relief and immense happiness that he'd been all right... that he'd been back, once more by his side... and the Ope Ope no Mi could as well not exist...

Law remembered that his own life had mattered less than Cora-san being there for him. And he knew that, if he'd known what price he would have to pay for his own rescue, he would've rejected the Ope Ope no Mi and chosen to spend his final moments with the man who'd become his whole world. He would've protested until the very end, would've used every argument and every mean to stop Corazon, to protect him from dying...

Just like Rosapelo was now clutching at _everything_ to protect him.

He focused his sight on the boy sitting before him and staring silently, still holding him with blue. His eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, his lips were pale, and his hair was tousled. He was exhausted and ill, and in pain, but above all he was suffering from fear of _loss_ that - Law knew well - could ruin a man for the rest of his life, destroy something in their soul irrevocably, twist beyond repair.

Was it what he _wanted_ for him? Was his own egoism - an effect of having been twisted - to speak up again? Yes, Rosapelo was right saying about the easiest way. How easy it was - when one was Trafalgar Law - to say 'I love you' and then kill himself... not think of consequences and settle with knowledge he'd done a noble thing... persuading himself into believing that, since he'd once survived himself, Rosapelo would manage, too... while, in fact, he would only be repeating the tragedy and prolonging that vicious cycle of love and death, instead of breaking it once and for all, even though it required making a greater effort. Now he could see clearly he'd wanted to be like Corazon but had never been even close. Cora-san hadn't gone to Minion to die, he just hadn't had another choice... but he, Law, simply tried to throw away his life, explaining it with someone else's good... yes, using Rosapelo as an _excuse_.

Maybe he didn't really love him... Maybe he'd always been that rotten substitute of a human that kept clinging to others and trying to see his own, better reflection in their eyes... using them to his own devices and preying on their feelings...? Maybe...

No.

Even if his love was so very imperfect, he didn't intend to deny it. It was selfish and possessive, full of anxiety and doubt, dominating and symbiotic, obsessive and immoderate... but it was real, for he couldn't help it. He _loved_ Rosapelo and wouldn't be able to stop. Never.

He focused his gaze on the boy again, and his heart once more clenched with that hot emotion that was painful... but also so sweet...! In his mind, love and death had become entwined so tight he hadn't managed to separate him for almost thirty years... but was it already **too late**? Maybe it was still possible to forget about dying and just concentrate on loving? Maybe he could embrace happiness without thinking about paying for it? Because now that he was looking at Rosapelo, who remained silent and let him think of his choices... no, who was _giving him the freedom of choice_... now he felt that, in fact... _he wished to stay...!_

And once he allowed himself that thought... when he realised this wish... there was no return. Avalanche of impressions and images fell on him, rolling before his eyes and flooding his mind, almost taking his breath away but filling his veins with fluid energy at the same time... Oh, how he wanted to keep living with Rosapelo, whose presence made him so happy... so joyful...! How he wished their talking, joking and laughing together...! How he wanted to look at the same sky and hear the same screams of gulls, feel the breeze on his face and sunlight on his skin, taste salt in the air...! Take walks on the beach and spend evenings in their home with Tiger on his lap...! Visit the grave of his mother and meet people that had become important to them both...! How he wanted to help and support him in everything... share not only good but also bad times...! Stay with him as long as he could, maybe... maybe even many, many decades yet...?

Only hope could make it possible, hope that everything would be all right. Only hope could balance the risk that caused constant fear and stirred the urge... the instinct to end it once and for all. He could still do it, he was free... but if he wanted to be with Rosapelo, he had to accept that his freedom ended where the boy's freedom started. He knew he had to choose now... to decide if Trafalgar Law was someone to let fear guide him for the rest of his life... or rather find that hope and believe in future... But he wasn't sure... it seemed to him he was facing the most difficult choice ever...

Rosapelo seemed to read his mind and know his doubts - or maybe they were reflected on his face...? "Believe in yourself, Law-san," he said quietly, but seriously, with emphasis... and every word rang with love. "You've done so much good to me... why wouldn't it be so, from now on, too? I don't doubt you... I will never doubt you after what you've done for me... And believe in me, too. We'll deal with everything, together, so..." He shook his head, as if he thought he wasn't saying the right things. "You saved me, but don't do it halfway... 'cause it would mean that the last year and a half was pointless. Please... I _beg you_..." He stretched out one trembling arm and touched his hand, shyly, stealthily, but he didn't take it back. "Don't leave me halfway, saving me with one hand and giving me despair with the other. Do it better... better than Corazon-san."

Better than Cora-san? Law blinked, trying to comprehend it. Just one hour ago, such words would seem a complete nonsense... something utterly impossible... but now... He looked at the hand of the boy who was prepared to do anything to catch him and never let go, keep him, stop him from leaving and pull him close, for ever... That hand was like a bridge to the future, he should only take it...

He looked up and realised he couldn't see clearly; Rosapelo's face became blurred even though the boy was sitting right before him. He blinked, then wiped his eyes with an impatient gesture and looked at him again. His throat clenched, so he swallowed down, and then once more. His heart was beating hard and fast, as if was to jump out of his chest... probably of fear, for he was scared, so terribly scared of what he wanted to do... but his hand, as if it had a life on its own, moved up to squeeze Rosapelo's fingers...

"Is it better if I live...?" he uttered, knowing he would lost control of his voice very soon.

And Rosapelo only nodded. Two tears dropped from his eyelashes and fell on the carpet. He lowered his head... and the next moment he swayed as if he'd lost all his strength... but Law was already by his side, taking him in his arms and holding close to his chest. He buried his face in the boy's hair and hugged him as if he didn't want to ever let him go... as if he were afraid that if he did so, he would never find the right way... Way _home_.

'You'll have to wait a bit longer for me, Cora-san,' he said in his mind and then corrected, 'Well, maybe a bit longer than a bit longer... You'll forgive me that, won't you?' And then he decided he could say goodbye to Corazon for some time now. They would undoubtedly meet again one day, but now... Now he would spend his life with someone else... someone whose name, too, meant 'heart'.

Rosapelo was weeping quietly in his arms, and Law embraced him tighter. "I'm sorry, Pelo," he whispered when he could utter the voice again.

'Sorry' was a good start... but he couldn't be happy, knowing that he had to apologise again. But... now he realised the pressure the boy must have been under for the last two days. He recalled his own pale smiles that probably had only made Rosapelo's fear grow, reminding about that night crying... Those last hours together, filled with entertainment that the boy couldn't enjoy, for his fears would only get stronger... Only now he could imagine how Rosapelo had felt: that fear that everything could soon end... and that despair to do something, otherwise...

On his kid's shoulders, Law had put weight he should have carried himself... weight much too heavy, and yet Rosapelo had been strong enough to take it. He hadn't broken... he'd given his all to bear that trial, too, even though he hadn't deserved it. Of them two, Rosapelo had always been the brave one... the one who hadn't hesitated to take the challenge. He must have been scared to death... and yet he'd managed to draw up his line of battle and hadn't retreated even an inch. Law realised that, confronted with resolve of that exceptional teenager, he'd had no chance from the start... and that conclusion was followed by another: he needed him to get a grip. He, an adult man.

"I'm sorry I treated you badly again," he said, stroking his hair. "I acted like a total git again, without taking others into consideration... You were right about me. I'm a coward who wished to do the easiest thing and escape the responsibility, instead of bravely face my life and what it brings along... instead of fighting to my last breath. Pathetic..."

Rosapelo shook his head. "You are who you are," he whispered without looking up. "It doesn't matter, because it's _you_, Law-san. Even if you were the worst man in the world... while you aren't... It doesn't matter," he repeated, then raised his hands and clutched his shirt. "I just... want that you..."

"I won't do that, I promise," Law assured him fervently. "I won't perform the Perennial Youth Operation. I won't... I won't die as long as I can prevent it. But... Could you believe me? Will you be able to trust me once more?" he asked and wasn't sure of it at all.

But Rosapelo's personality was nowhere near as twisted as his own - although he'd been on the way to make it so - for the boy only nodded, and Law felt he'd been given a miracle again.

He shouldn't tempt the fate any more, he thought distractedly, embracing the boy even tighter. He possessed an amazing ability to sabotage his own happiness, which hurt not only him but also people he loved. It was high time that he took a full responsibility for himself, not counting on his kid to get him back on track every time... It was high time to understand that one day he might be not so successful. Now, although it'd been just a moment since making a decision, he already felt cold at the thought of what he'd almost done. And, again, he felt terribly grateful to the boy - to his insufferable, wonderful foster son - for his will to fight for him and never let him go... for keeping him here. He should spend the rest of his life, thanking him for that... although he suspected that the boy needed only his presence. It was how people who loved were constructed.

He noticed that Rosapelo's breathing had become slower and the boy's body had relaxed in his embrace. The teenager had fallen asleep when that horrible tension had left and the fought had ended, even pain wouldn't bother him... He probably had slept very little in last two days, afraid that once he waked up... Law clenched his jaws, realising his own cruelty once more... and then he took a deep breath to slowly let it out. 'You are who you are,' he remembered his kid's words. Maybe he should focus on them. They were a good starting point...

* * *

When he lifted his eyelids, the soft shadow was filling the room, and the sky outside was glowing with the afternoon light. He was lying on the floor; apparently, he'd fallen asleep at some point, too... Rosapelo was sitting next to him, leaning over slightly and observing him with greed, and his intensely blue eyes were shining like two stars. They became wider when he waked up.

Law reached up and touched his face. "Rosapelo..." he said in a sleep voice. When the boy knitted his brows, he added, "Pelo... The boy whose name means 'heart'."

The teenager nodded. "I know."

Law smiled. It seemed to him it had been ages since the last time he'd smiled. "Have you ever known?" he muttered, letting his arm fall down but keeping an eye-contact.

Rosapelo shrugged as if it hadn't mattered, but then his gaze became sharp again. "Can I stay?" he asked, but then he shook his head, realising he'd asked a wrong question. "Will you _stay_ with me, Law-san?"

"I will," Law replied, still smiling. "I need you. Only you could knock my foolishness out of me. I'll stay. Even for the whole future... no matter how long it would be. The longer the better."

Rosapelo considered that answer and apparently didn't find any trick to it, for the next moment the corners of his mouth twitched and he nodded. "I think it'll be enough," he claimed, and this time his smile reached his eyes.

And Law decided to never forget this perfect moment when he felt there was nothing - really, _nothing_ \- he missed.


	31. Chapter 31

**Epilogue**

Time on Raftel moves at its own pace: too slow for some, and too fast for others. For those who are happy, every moment is worth living, no matter if its hot summer or frosty winter. Every period, every season sooner or later ends, but only to let the next start. In that regard, Raftel, the Island of the End and the Beginning, is just like every other.

It is the same in the Corazon Memorial Hospital: when one patient recovers, another comes to their place. Work in health care, despite the best efforts of the doctors, nurses and all assisting personnel, will never stop. Even the powerful Devil Fruit, although capable of curing every disease, cannot eradicate them once and for all, because there's much more factors affecting human health than anyone could ever count. Its user knows that he will fight for those who can be saved from dying until his last breath, but now he can understand he isn't responsible for all humanity.

This is Trafalgar Law: a man in early-forties who smiles rarely, but when he does, there is such warmth in his eyes that everyone seeing it is filled with joy. He is the greatest doctor that have ever lived, capable of performing miraculous surgeries and operations that no-one else can. He is considered to be one of the most influential people in the world, and there's hardly anyone who haven't heard his name, and yet honour and glory mean to him as little as a breath of wind that can't warm. He still works a lot, but he often takes days off, too, and every day he goes home, for this is where his heart and the very essence of his life is: his teenage foster son, who saved him from despair and wrestled him out of the hands of slow dying, and whose presence gives him not only sense but, above all, normal human happiness. And even though every day means fighting for the boy's health and every moment realises how fragile he is, for Law, he seems the strongest and the bravest man in the world, who decided to live for love instead of, at the first opportunity and without hesitation, dying for it. Rosapelo arouses his admiration and adoration... but, in the first place, is his beloved kid, not some unreachable ideal.

And every morning, when Law goes to work every morning and his eyes read the name of the hospital, he remembers another man he admired and adored... to such an extent that the pain of having lost him almost crushed him. Now, however, when he recalls Corazon - not from distant past, but from his own heart, as if Donquixote Rosinante were very close - he does it without suffering, only with acceptance: acceptance of love and sacrifice. Now Law finally is able forgive Corazon having saved him, for thanks to that he could, can and will be able to help Rosapelo. Now Law finally could forgive himself having been saved by Corazon... and he is almost amazed that light and the colours are so bright again, as if a quarter of century spent in grey didn't leave any mark. He isn't bitter about having waited so long, so maybe it really is true that new happiness makes the past simply move aside; no matter how difficult, painful or lifeless, it loses its meaning when compared with the present, and turns merely in its cause.

Trafalgar D. Water Law doesn't know the future, but he wishes that tomorrow doesn't differ much from today. He hopes that fate won't stop giving him those most ordinary days. If needed, he will fight for them.

He is well aware it's worth it.


	32. Chapter 32

**Bonus**

Law took a deep breath and lifted his hand. No, he wasn't going to hesitate. Now that he'd made his decision, all it took was to put it into action - no matter how absurd it seemed - and it was one of his few virtues to quickly bring his plans into force. He knocked. The door was plain, perfectly ordinary and nothing about it revealed that the room it led to housed the greatest freak of the Corazon Memorial Hospital. That conclusion was followed by another: out of them two, Clione was much more normal... and certainly more sane. There was nothing pleasant about realising it, but being honest with himself would surely pay.

Upon hearing the familiar voice, Law pressed the handle and entered. The moment the door closed behind him, and without waiting for greetings and questions, he announced, "Saturday, 6 PM."

Clione looked at him, putting down the paper he'd been reading. "What?" he asked, knitting his brows.

"We're going on a date."

The psychiatrist said nothing only kept staring at him from behind his desk and blinking occasionally.

Law felt disappointed and almost offended; he'd awaited much more enthusiastic reaction. "Of course, if you have different plans, I can very easily find another way to occupy myself," he said coldly.

Clione twitched. "You said 6 PM, right?"

Law nodded, graciously deciding that he could forgive him this one time. After all, Clione had every right to be surprised... "We're going to the All Baratie. I'll come get you."

The psychiatrist contained his smile, but something flashed in his eyes. "I'm going to put on my best dress," he declared.

"I thought it was obvious," Law replied haughtily, then turned around and left without a word. He feared that his day's supply of courage/eloquence/composure/tenacity delete where applicable had just run out.

It was early September. It had been a month since the dramatic events, their memory filling Law with deep embarrassment and every time posing a question how could he have been so stupid. Apparently, he had a tendency towards going from one extreme to another. In any case, he currently was going through the phase of realising his own egoism and attempting to compensate to everyone who had fallen a victim to it... or something like that. He started from Rosapelo, who he spent his all free time with... or, rather, who he tried to make as much free time as possible for.

After one month of living nearly in a symbiosis, the teenager's desperate eyes clearly said he needed some break and his own space. Rosapelo was relieved whenever he visited Franky, who designed a special anti-fall equipment for him. The cyborg rose to great heights of engineering art and needed only two weeks to - basing on air cushions used by mermaids - construct a gravitation-regulating device that not only enabled Rosapelo to move more easily, but also made any fall impossible. It was just a temporary solution - and not devoid of downsides, the most serious being the negative impact on the boy's already bad bone density - and Rosapelo's activity remained limited anyway, but thanks to that invention the teenager didn't need to stay in bed, and in the late August he and Law could return home. Although Rosapelo tried not to show it - especially after his passionate promises to spend even ten years in the hospital, if needed - he was very happy to go back to school.

And when school started, Law had no choice but to occupy himself with other things... and came to remember other people. Well, it was rather that now, when he could enjoy his happiness without reservation, it became more and more clear to him that he owed it not only to Rosapelo and himself. He didn't understand it at once, rather bit by bit and unconsciously, at first. But once he realised that his life could have looked very differently now, one particular person started showing in his head, whose contribution had been essential; without it, nothing that had happened in regard to Rosapelo, wouldn't have happened. The truth was, if not for Clione, Trafalgar Law would've continued his sad existence without even realising how sad it was. The psychiatrist deserved a decent thank-you, that much was obvious.

And when that thought occurred to him, Law suddenly noticed that he hadn't seen Clione for a longer while. At first glance, there was nothing strange to it; after all, that was how their contact had looked for many years: Law's monthly visits on the ward one floor down and rare visits of the chief psychiatrist in his office, whenever the head of the Seven needed something from him. So, it could be concluded that their relation had simply gone to normal after that intensive period of treating Rosapelo's depression last year... and yet it suddenly started bothering Law, that impression getting stronger every day. Now he could clearly see that when he'd started a family with Rosapelo, then Clione had receded to the background that he use to leave - or that Law _drew_ him from - only when it was necessary. Law was aware that it was how he'd always treated people - he associated with them only when he needed them for something - but now, maybe for the very first time in his life, it made him uncomfortable. And he knew he wasn't being fair.

For his part, Clione wouldn't seek for his company, nor would he, regardless of the situation, violate the zone Law had long ago put around himself to diligently guard its borders. Well, almost everyone acted that way, maybe except for Bepo, but friendship of any mink was marked by disregarding any borders, especially physical ones... In Clione's case, there was also that thing of his... hmm, infatuation (although Law suspected that calling it 'infatuation' was a big understatement on his part). For most of the time, Law had managed to ignore it, and he'd done it so well that he'd actually forgotten about it altogether and would treat Clione's coquetry like his natural manner, instead of reading something more in it... especially that the psychiatrist had a much more unnerving trait, namely his psychoanalytic tendency. Now, however, Law could no longer remain oblivious to Clione's feelings, not after the psychiatrist had told him about it, himself. It hadn't changed anything between them, but Law could understand where the distance his friend kept came from.

On the one hand, he was amazed that someone could have such feelings for him, in the first place, and so constant, on top of it. On the other hand, he reluctantly respected Clione for needing _so little_ and knowing he had no chance for any more. Because, in fact, of them two, it was Law who always got incomparably more: affection, support and, above all, wise advices and instructions. Even if the psychiatrist seemed annoying, there was no doubt he was a remarkable specialist in his field and could perfectly grasp all complexity of a human mind, while emotions and behaviours were an open book to him. On his part, Law was a master at ignoring all psychological domain, both his own and other people's. Well, it was a common knowledge that surgery and psychiatry were opposites, ha ha...

In any case, Law reached the stage of seeing clearly he owed Clione much more he might have ever suspected - and now was the high time to pay back... hence the idea of a 'date'. Of course, it wasn't supposed to be a real date; nevertheless, he couldn't think of a better way to make his friend happy. Once he made his decision, all that was left was to realise it... and yet it took him several days until he managed to knock on that particular door on the seventh floor.

Finally, Saturday arrived, and tension hadn't decreased a bit. He'd had too many days to think of what might happen on that pseudo-date... But he had to face it like a man. He was one of the most powerful people in the world, capable of things that were impossible for others - honestly, he should be able to spend one evening with Clione, right...? Besides, it wasn't about _his_ pleasure, but someone else's joy, and it should be the sufficient motivation to do his best...? With this kind of arguments he tried to boost his courage, but his nervousness was so obvious it didn't escape Rosapelo's attention.

"Anything happened?" the teenager asked after Law had cursed under his breath before the mirror as he'd managed to drop a comb twice already.

"I'm going on... on a date."

Rosapelo's eyes became round like the balls, which was an expected reaction... contrary to the words that followed. "With Clione-san?" the boy said, and there was no real question in his voice.

Law looked at him, offended. "Does everyone think that Clione is the only person I could go on a date with?" he asked with annoyance.

"Well... isn't he?"

Law felt like grinding his teeth at such a cheeky answer... but he didn't want to inquire whether the foundation of such belief was the fact that Clione was the only person who would bother their head about someone so psychologically messed like Law, or, rather, the two of them were considered a perfect match. He didn't know which option was the worse, and he decided not to think of it. Suffice it to say that Rosapelo was probably right. Faked or not, Law couldn't imagine going on a date with anyone else. The reason for that might be that Clione had suggested it long ago, early enough that Law had grown used to that idea... or something. He shook his head and left the boy's words without any comment.

Fortunately, Rosapelo wasn't yet the age when kids became interested in romantic stuff, so Law was spared any, given in good faith, comments about appearance or behaviour. The boy limited himself to wishing him good luck, although it seemed to Law he did his best not to burst into laughter. Law had the urge to make him realise it wasn't a real date, but, for some reason, he didn't do it. In any case, it seemed that his kid didn't oppose the idea itself... which, aside from the overall context, made him happy.

However, when at 6 PM sharp he knocked on Clione's door, he wished he'd been given some kind hints, after all. The psychiatrist looked him up and down and sighed. "Well, you are handsome enough to look good in your normal clothes, too. But where are the flowers?"

'I'm not wearing a white coat,' Law wanted to answer, but he realised the flower thing was much more important. "What would you do with them now?" he replied without thinking. "You'll get some when we get there."

Clione beamed like the sun in the middle of the summer and locked the door, while Law frantically tried to remember if there was a florist's in the New Piece... and what flowers the psychiatrist liked.

"I hope it will be roses," Clione said in an innocent voice, as if reading his mind, and Law decided he would be damned if he thanked for such a good will.

"We're off," he declared glumly and raised his arm to grab the psychiatrist and teleport straight to their destination. Something told him, however, that it shouldn't be like that, and he checked himself in the last moment. "I mean..."

Clione, still smiling, went to his side and slipped one hand under his arm, then looked up at him and said, "I'm ready."

Law tried not to roll his eyes; instead, he nodded and activated the Ope Ope no Mi, and three seconds later they were standing in front of the greatest entertainment complex in the New World. It was very crowdied today - which was perfectly understandable in the first weekend after the summer holidays - but Law made directly for the restaurant, looking for the flower shop and trying to ignore everything else, including the familiar faces that he saw as much as seven in the first five minutes. Luck was on his side, as he spotted a florist's very close to the All Baratie; its name was 'Cosmos', and it provided him with a bouquet of red roses. In the most elegant gesture he could muster - which seemed like he did his best to refrain from forcibly pushing it - he handed it to Clione, driving away the feeling it was so very absurd. Yet, the psychiatrist appeared as someone who'd just been given a star from the sky, which was desirable, so Law shouldn't bother his head with less important matters.

When they took their seats in the private box - Sanji poured them sparkling wine and informed he would come in a few minutes to take their order - silence fell, and at last Law found it oppressing. What else could he have expected, though? He drank the whole glass, wondering how he would manage to survive the next few hour when he didn't really want to be here. Such things, however, didn't help, he just had to stick with it... and, besides, it was him who'd suggested it, so he was responsible for everything. He suppressed a sigh and looked at his companion sitting across the table.

Contrary to him, Clione seemed perfectly relaxed. He was smiling serenely, slowly drinking his wine and occasionally glancing at the bouquet. Finally he put the glass down, rested one elbow on the table and one cheek on the hand, and gave him a questioning look. That made Law lose even more confidence, and he tried to think of something to say, but there was only one thing in his head, 'I invited him on a date... On a _date_...'

"I've never done it before," he muttered, more to himself than Clione.

"Me neither," the psychiatrist replied cheerfully.

Law frowned. "Really?"

Clione nodded. "Sure. After all, I vowed to remain faithful to you for the whole eternity," he confessed in a completely calm voice, and his words would sound like a joke if they hadn't come with a risk of being perfectly true.

"I don't remember," Law slurred.

"You never asked," Clione replied and drank his wine.

Law felt annoyed, although his annoyance was rather directed at himself. He should have expected they wouldn't avoid talking about _that_. The only way to avoid was to take up other topics; the thing was, none would come to his mind. What could they talk about? Work? Weather? It seemed completely out of place... Suddenly, Law realised he wasn't capable of having a normal, private conversation. Not only with Clione but anyone. Well, maybe except Rosapelo, but it didn't help in this situation. Damn...

"In any case, it seems neither of us has been on... ah, on a _date_, so far," Clione's voice broke his reverie. "It means that we just have to settle our own canon, without following someone else."

"Our own..." Law repeated, looking at him with a frown. "Like... What? We're going to do it again?" he asked tentatively.

Clione's lips twitched, but he didn't address that idea only suggested, "For starters, you may tell me that I... if I look nice."

Law was under the impression that the psychiatrist had a lot of fun, but was it anything new? It didn't prevent him from answering with confidence, "You look nice."

But, to tell the truth, Clione always looked nice. Contrary to most transvestites Law knew, he never overdid his make-up and dressed tastefully. Of course, at the first glance, it was obvious he wasn't a woman, but, for a man, he was pretty comely - he had quite delicate features - and he moved gracefully, so he didn't seem a travesty of the fair sex. If Law were to make a ranking of those okama that were a pleasant sight, Clione would certainly make it to Top 3.

Today the psychiatrist had put on a dark blue dress - he must have liked that colour, as Law would often see him wearing it - with a pearl necklace and the pearl earrings. His fair hair was, like always, pinned high, and his eyes were enhanced with turquoise shadow, as were his long nails.

Law blinked, having realised that... "You scolded me, while you haven't put on any evening wear yourself," he said with reproach.

Clione snorted with laughter. "Well, I'm wearing slightly higher heels than normally," he objected. "And this dress and these pearls are the most expensive things I possess, so let's agree that it's the best outfit I could put on. To say nothing of these perfume that costed me half of my month pay. I use them only for special occasions."

Law felt the corners of his lips twitch. Despite himself, he felt an urge to ask about those 'special occasions', but then Sanji came to take their order. In the end, they went with the world best chef's choice, and when he left again, the atmosphere wasn't so tense anymore.

"Do you have other suggestions?" Law asked. "You got flowers and a compliment... What next? Maybe I don't look it, but I'm a quick learner."

"That's à propos doing it again?" Clione guessed. "If you want it, I'll make myself really pretty the next time, I promise," he assured eagerly and winked at him. "I'm going to look much more extravagant."

Law ignored that offer. "It was à propos this evening, at the very most," he retorted, but then he asked with hesitation (as he didn't use to take interest in his colleague's private life), "You really... haven't been on a date before?"

Now the psychiatrist's eyes flashed with surprise, but he shook his head. "I haven't."

"But surely someone must have invited you...?"

"Why do you think that?"

"Because..." Law started and then stopped. What exactly did he want to say? 'Because you're quite attractive'? No, he would never be able to say it, even if he really thought so...? In the end, he awkwardly declared, "Because it wouldn't be anything strange. And now those fancy clothes and jewellery go to waste..."

Clione knitted his brows slightly. "Law, you've probably noticed that I'm gay and a transvestite, which limits quite much the amount of possible candidates for a date," he replied calmly. "That's the first thing. The second is, I'm a psychiatrist, which limits that amount even more. People... well, are scared of our kind. They rarely feel comfortable around us," he explained, which Law could understand quite well. "And the third..." he averted his eyes. "The third you should realise yourself," he muttered, moving his index finger down the side of the glass. "I wouldn't go for a date with anyone else, I'd rather stay home and read. To tell the truth, the first two are just the excuses," he admitted, very honest for him.

Law thought there was nothing wrong with staying home and reading... Actually, it wouldn't occur to him it was the worse option than going on a date. He knew that Clione was a bookworm and his private library was probably the biggest on Raftel... maybe except for that in the Pirate King's palace.

He shook his head, trying to focus on important thing. "Did you never think of giving up on me?" he asked, although he hadn't planned it, but once he did it, he felt there was nothing wrong in asking that.

Clione gave him an astonished look; obviously, he hadn't expected that, either. Then he slowly shook his head. "There's only one Trafalgar Law," he said quietly. "And I... I think I'm that kind of a guy that can love only once," he mumbled and covered his face with his hands.

Law looked down. He realised it was the first time he saw Clione embarrassed, and it made him feel pretty weird. But probably everyone would feel this way, having suddenly discovered that his colleague, too, was a human...? He wasn't sure if he liked it - it seemed safer to have only professional relations with others - but the matter itself was too important so that he could brush it aside and pretend it didn't exist... especially in the face of offered honesty. On the one hand, he still couldn't imagine he was sitting here and having this conversation... but on the other hand, he was under the impression it could be the only safe occasion to say everything that was on his mind. Not in the hospital, not in the office, not with his white coat on. It seemed to him that here they were just two people and the best their could do was to react with a gesture to a gesture and with a word to a word. Sitting down in silence and obstinate ignoring not only would be low, but wouldn't provide with any solution, either.

In fact, Clione's confession didn't flatter him at all, even if it should. "I don't deserve it," he said, shaking his head. "And I feel bad about it. Clione, you should... You really could find yourself someone else. It's hard to believe you could seriously-"

Clione put his hands on the table, and that move - quick and decisive - made Law look up again. His friend was piercing him with the gaze of his slate blue eyes. There was no trace of the embarrassment from just a moment ago on his face. "Law, could you please not depreciate my feelings," he said in a cold, flat tone that demanded to be listened to, despite it being almost a whisper. "I've been loving you for over half of my life already. As far as you are concerned, I am always serious. One hundred percent serious. And you can't change it. Besides..." his voice turned softer. "Do you really need to deserve a feeling?"

Law thought it would be logical... but feelings hardly ever had anything to do with logic. Yet, Clione's words made him recall another conversation, and he pressed his lips in a thin line. "Then, why did you... the last time we spoke of it, why did you give me understand it wouldn't work?" he asked after a moment, and his voice, despite his agitation, was as silent as that of the psychiatrist.

Something akin to abashment flashed in Clione's eyes, and this time it was his turn to look away. "You know why... I explained it," he muttered.

"And I feel bad about it," Law repeated and paused. He fixed his eyes on the tablecloth, clenched his fists under the table and spent a longer while thinking of what he should say next. "I respect you, and I wish that you were satisfied with your life."

"It's _my_ life, Law," Clione replied calmly. "You can't decide about it for me. I make my own choices. I understand you may feel uncomfortable... even guilty, but there's no need for that."

Law knew he should stop at that. Clione sounded like someone who'd long since thought it over... who'd long since come to terms with his feelings. The only reasonable solution was to respect it and back out... Only, Trafalgar Law never backed out when he felt he was right. "And for me, it sounds like you're running away..." he said. Some inner objection made him continue, even though he had no idea where it came from, "Like you preferred your safe... unrequited love instead of taking a chance... instead of trying..."

Clione straightened up in his chair and glared at him. "I don't want to hear that from you," he said in a voice that made it clear that any discussion was impossible. "Not when I know that this meeting doesn't mean a thing for you. Not when I know that this... _date_ is just a fun. It's my life," he repeated. "And as long as there's nothing more between us, you have no right, Law... You have no right to tell me how to live. How to feel. Even if you don't like it. Why, you don't mean to ask me to become your boyfriend?" he asked, and, if Law hadn't known him like he had, he would think there was a mockery to those words. "Then, what kind of trying are you talking about? Law, I respect you too much to... _impose_ myself on you. To say nothing of my instinct of self-preservation. You must understand at least that I don't want to risk... that you freeze me out for good...? Every normal person would fear that."

Law averted his eyes; his friend's every word made him shrink inside more and more. Now he had no idea what had made him say all those things... However, before he managed to reply... or apologise, Sanji returned with the first course.

They occupied themselves with eating, although Law didn't had appetite. He was painfully aware of the look Clione was giving him across the table... and he knew he deserved it. Yet, as they couldn't spend the rest of the evening in silence, he forced himself to glance at the psychiatrist between one spoon and another, and say, "Actually, I wanted to thank you."

Clione's thin eyebrows raised a bit. There was no trace of his earlier agitation. He asked in a composed voice, "What for?"

"For Rosapelo."

Clione chocked on his soup and coughed for a moment, trying to catch his breath. Then he wiped his mouth. "Sorry. It sounded so strange that I thought of something stupid..." he muttered, and Law thought he could hear laughter in his words... and he felt relieved. "What do you mean?"

"This. Everything," Law replied, realising he wasn't explaining anything.

Clione, however, as befitted a psychiatrist, seemed to understand anyway. "But I didn't do anything," he replied and resumed eating.

Law looked at him in disbelief and put his hand on the table, still holding the spoon. "Come one, do you really want me to enumerate it? First, you realised I should tend to him... when he was in your ward. You realised I could help him."

"It was just a theory, a conjecture," Clione objected. "I clutched at any little thing that could-"

"If not for that, things would have been different," Law interrupted him. "Probably worse. But thanks to you, I started to visit him... I wanted that he recovered, and decided to do everything to make it happen... while, at first, I didn't even want to see him."

Clione nodded and remained silent.

"And later," Law went on, "if not for you... I would've let him go. I wouldn't have realised I needed him. I wouldn't have taken him in. I wouldn't have made home with him. If you hadn't talked sense into me..." It still filled him with terror because now he couldn't imagine living without Rosapelo. It was just so close... "You see, all credit goes to you."

Clione gave him a slightly annoyed look. "You're exaggerating. You just reached the right conclusions yourself. Of course, if I were of any use, then I'm happy, but-"

"Clione, we both know well that I couldn't have reached such conclusions by myself even if I'd thought for a century," Law replied honestly and then frowned. "Why do you insist on belittling your merits?"

"It got to me, I guess," the psychiatrists sneered. "I spent too long with you."

Law shook his head and refrained from rolling his eyes. "And later... every time I needed your logical opinion, I could always count on you." He lowered his voice, "I'm a terrible father... and I keep doing stupid things... but you could always correct me and show me the way, in every single situation. Like when he ran away and I imagined the worst thing at once... Or when we got into an argument and it felt like the world collapsed... Clione, if not for you, I'd probably have gone insane long ago."

"Well, in that case, I feel I did a good job, as a psychiatrist," Clione commented with an irony. "Now that you present it that way, I start to suspect you want to ask me to be his godfather," he added and then opened his eyes wide in a faked abashment. "His godmother...?"

Law snorted. "Clione, don't clown around when I try to be serious... when I try to tell you that I'm really, _really_ grateful for what you did. I feel I would never be able to thank you enough."

Clione gave him a thoughtful look and then just shrugged. "Your words of thanks have been accepted, okay?" he said and poured himself some water, and Law couldn't resist the impression his friend was upset.

He didn't know how to react, so he said nothing and continued his meal in silence. Clione had never been mad at him - despite Law having given him all too much reason for that - quite the contrary: he'd always treated him with kind leniency... Now, however, it seemed to him that Clione who was sitting across the table was someone else from who he knew, and it distressed him more he wished to admit it. What he could admit, though, was his own annoyance due to the scorn his friend had addressed his attempt to thank him with. No, he shouldn't think this way, he shouldn't focus only on himself... But something was clearly off, and he couldn't grasp what.

"Why are you like that?" he asked in the end, putting the spoon down in the empty bowl, and there was more helplessness to his words he'd intended.

The psychiatrist looked at him askance. "Because you're not like yourself today," he replied after a moment.

"Funny thing, that's what I just thought about yourself," Law replied without thinking. "Like you weren't happy that we came here..."

Clione frowned and looked at him, clearly offended, but the day was once more saved by Sanji. The greatest chef in the world appeared to take the bowls and offer the main course, then wished them _bon appetit_ and left. Clione kept staring at Law with his intense gaze for a longer while, but he must have given up on saying what was on his mind as he occupied himself with the meal, in the end.

The atmosphere turned colder, and Law unconsciously felt it was his fault, although he couldn't find any cause, and the thought that his friend was really sulking for no reason wouldn't leave him. He tried to confront Clione sitting before him with Clione who just half an hour ago had entered the restaurant, clinging to his sleeve and with radiant smile, and he found it difficult to believe it was the same person in question. Now, the psychiatrist was sitting with his head down, his eyes fixed on his plate as if its content had been the most important thing in the world, and there wasn't a single trace of smile on his face. There was no emotion on it, either, since he could perfectly control them, so it was hard to tell if he was offended, angry or sad. In any case, he didn't look happy, and it was what Law had expected of him.

Never before had Clione behaved that way towards Law. It was beyond doubt that he'd often been annoyed or even disappointed because of him, but he could understand the two of them were different people and had different opinions on some matters or events. He acknowledged both his own and Law's limitations. Even if he sometimes reproached him - giving him a proverbial kick - he would to do it with smile and without malice, would say things directly and without mincing his words, and wouldn't make an emotional attack. Law never felt criticised or belittled by him, because everyone could bear with the taunts without any problem if they were convinced about the sympathy of the other person. Until now, Law could unconditionally believe Clione's honesty, and could be convinced of his good will. He could trust him.

That was why now, when Clione was sulking with him for some reason, Law felt thrown off balance, felt... _rejected_, and that impression was getting stronger with every minute. It was stupid, and he had to control it, and there was only one thing he could do in order to not sink in this anxiety: to ask. "Why-"

"It's a private meeting, right?" Clione interrupted him, as if he'd been only waiting for an occasion to speak. "Then let me tell you, Trafalgar Law, that you're a real bastard."

Law was struck dumb, and he leaned back, pretty sure he must have heard wrong. Before he managed to say anything, though, Clione went on, piercing him with the gaze of his slate blue eyes. "It's not a date, is it?" His voice was quiet, cold, almost emotionless, but a slight, sharp note of bitterness rang in it. "You just took pity on me. Or, which is more likely, you felt guilty about being the only one who's happy here, so you decided to share that happiness. And, while you're at it, to persuade me into giving up on you... so that you're no longer bothered by the fact that poor Clione is suffering because of you...?"

Law was staring at him completely shocked and crushed by that accusation, unable to say a word in his defence. Never before had he heard anything like that from Clione... and had never expected to hear one day. For a moment, he thought it was some sick joke, but his friend didn't look like he were joking; it was the opposite, he seemed dead serious. Feeling of being rejected attacked Law again, and stronger... and he forced himself to ignore it and, instead, focus on the words he'd been told... on the accusations that were... unfair...?

Clione had got it all wrong...! "I just wanted to be nice," he uttered with much less confidence he'd planned. "I wanted to do something for you, for once... to thank you..."

Clione shook his head. "Law, I'm sorry to say it but being nice isn't your strongest point," he said dryly. "It's much better if you're just yourself... and don't have fun at my expense," he added in a lower voice.

"I'm not having fun..." Law started to object. Really, how could Clione have understand it so wrong...?!

"Oh, shut up," his friend retorted in a resigned tone, putting the half-emptied plate aside. He poured himself some water and drank it up, then look at Law and shook his head again. "And I can't even be really mad at you..." he muttered, resting one elbow on the table.

"You're mad at me?" Law asked, and it was probably the most stupid thing he'd ever said.

"I am. And it's completely pointless, as you don't even get it," Clione replied and sighed, then put his forehead on his hand. When he continued, his voice was softer. "Though I should be mad at myself, in the first place, because it's only my fault. I decided to have some big ideas... even though I'm well aware all this is fake. I thought I could just have good fun. That, just this once, I could think... imagine that my dream came true after all those years." He glanced at him between his fingers. "Do you know what it means to me to meet with you like this? To walk arm in arm with you, get the flowers in public... and, above all, talk about different things than work..." He shook his head and hid his face inside his palm again, and his next words came as a whisper. "No, to talk _even about those stupid feelings of mine_... despite me being a guy... I thought, I decided it would be okay to do it just once... and in the end, I'm venting my frustration on you, because, after all, I can't pretend it's something real... So, in fact, I should be mad at myself... for such inconsistence... I'm pathetic."

Law was sitting dumbstruck. The first emotion that surged in him was objection. He didn't like it that Clione blamed himself in this situation, it was... it was fundamentally wrong...! What came next was understanding and shame. Finally Law could see his actions from Clione's point of view... and felt disgusted. He'd thought he'd done a noble thing, he'd wanted to make Clione happy... to give him what he'd thought Clione wished... but, in fact, he'd hurt his friend, had patronised him... or even humiliated. He'd wanted to show his respect, and yet he'd done the opposite...! How could he have behaved that way towards one of the kindest people he'd ever met? How could he have undervalued him and trampled on his dignity?

He _was_ a real bastard. Not that it was anything new.

Yes, he'd acted like a total, insensitive prick... once again. He had to apologise... but he was so sick with apologising everyone around him and repeating the same mistakes all over again. He suddenly got scared that it was already close: the time when 'I'm sorry' will no longer be enough... Maybe soon no-one will believe in his apparent remorse...! But he _had_ to apologise. He had to convince his friend it wasn't like that... that even if his behaviour could be interpreted that way, he hadn't meant wrong at any point...! He had to answer the arguments and accusations... Clione's words were still ringing in his eyes, each weighing in his chest and...

"I don't mind you being a guy. I never did," he said... and blinked. He hadn't planned to say it and had no idea where it had come from, especially that there were more important issues to address. But once his words were spoken, he had a closer look at the thought they implied, 'I don't mind you loving me like a guy.' He blinked again.

Clione looked up and focus his gaze on him before nodding. "I know," he replied somewhat hesitant, and Law felt relieved he'd finally said something right... and something that was true, on top of it.

And he felt the tiniest hope that they would be able to finish this conversation in a constructive way and somehow go back to what they'd had until now... although it was probably cowardice on his part. "I'm sorry," he said because, even if he was sick of saying 'I'm sorry', leaving it unsaid was much worse of an option. "I didn't want to hurt you, Clione, I really didn't. I'm a bastard, just like you said. It was wrong of me... now I get it..."

"Okay, let's forget about it," Clione replied quickly, waving his hand, and his voice was ringing with fatigue and resignation now. "Let everything be like it was until now, okay?"

Law said nothing. Even though it was what he'd hoped for... now that Clione agreed to it, he felt uneasy. "You're still mad at me, aren't you?" he asked helplessly. "What should I do to make you believe I'm sorry?"

Clione gave him a clear-headed look. He kept silent for a moment, apparently thinking, but then he only shook his head. "We just... It's the best if we forget about it. Let's pretend that this evening never happened. Because, the longer we talk, the more pathetic I feel. So... Can we go back to how we were before?" he asked.

Law said nothing. He was under the impression that Clione was evading the problem... although just a few minutes ago it was him who'd been doing everything to avoid it, hoping for the easiest solution... which his friend was now offering him on a silver plate.

"Because, Law... You haven't brought me here to tell me that you're through with me... and don't want to gave anything to do with me again...?" Clione asked in a soft voice, and his words were so unexpected that Law could think thousand years and still wouldn't imagine the psychiatrist to say them one day.

He frowned. Through? Through with Clione? He felt like laughing at the very thought, so absurd it was. Clione had been with him almost as long as Ikkaku, having joined the Heart Pirates as the fifth. They'd experienced so much together that Law could say with full confidence that without Clione he wouldn't be here now. He belonged to Law's reality and couldn't be removed or replaced... And once he thought that, his mind was flooded by memories, so many memories with Clione either playing the main part or staying in the background and still being important.

Clione taking on the role of mediator during every conflict on the Polar Tang, or answering with keen and accurate psychological analysis to those sad fellows who dared to mess with him... Clione sneaking books aboard in every port and addressing the accusations of overloading the ship with his standard answer he was filling Shachi and Penguin's quota, as he suspected they were illiterate... Clione slipping once into Law's cabin and sleeping bag when they were, like, sixteen (nothing had happened as Law had shamblesed him to the far end of the submarine without giving him any chance to explain himself) and then not showing his face around him for the next month... Clione starting with Bepo a campaign called 'We love our Captain' to show the crew's affection on a regular basis... Clione repeatedly organising the psychological relief for locals when the rest of the crew fought with the hurricane or another disaster... Clione collapsing in the middle of operation when Law needed every pair of hands after they'd had a nasty clash with a bigger and stronger pirate crew... Clione getting seriously injured and being saved by Law at the last moment... Clione driving Ikkaku into mental breakdown with his kind advices on appearance and not stopping even after she'd beaten him to a pulp... Clione on Raftel, throwing the boiler suit off, putting on the dress and announcing he was going to finally live true to his nature... And the next fifteen years with Clione proving more than enough he deserved to be called one of the supporting pillars of the Corazon Memorial Hospital, even if he rarely appeared in the foreground... Clione never asking anything in return, just wanting to stay here, with Law.

From those memories emerged a man extremely intelligent, reliable and, above all, _good_. Clione was probably the most gentle person on the Polar Tang and the only one of the Heart Pirates devoid of killer instinct. Law blinked in surprise, as that assessment, unequivocally flattering, was at odds with the image he'd had in his mind for years: that Clione was the most annoying of his companions. Well, it wasn't like he meant to claim now he had never thought so... but maybe his evaluation had evolved with the elapse of time...? It wouldn't be that strange, right...?

He focused his gaze on his friend sitting across the table and still waiting for an answer, his face being a mask - now Law could see it - of seriousness, uncertainty, and even fear. Was it the reason of Clione's abrasive attitude tonight: fear that Law wanted to end everything? Law analysed his own behaviour, the words he'd spoken... and realised it had really differed quite much from what Clione was accustomed to. He swallowed a prick in his throat - the impression it was unfair towards him, for even he had a right... and a chance to change - and decided that his friend's concern wasn't groundless. Well, it sure was, as Law had never, not for a moment, thought to change anything between them. It was the opposite: now that Clione had hinted that they might part, he came to the conclusion he would fight for him with fangs and claws.

"Law...?" Clione spoke, and the tension in his voice could make hair stand on end in someone more sensitive.

Law thought he was cruel, having left him uncertain instead of quelling his fear at once. "I have no idea how you could have thought of it," he announced, shaking his head in displeasure. "I told you, I value you very much. Why should I suddenly want to end it? You got it completely wrong... and here I thought I was the master of reaching the completely missed conclusions. Well, maybe I really am unlike my previous self, but... Don't you think I may have changed... evolved, as a human being?" he suggested in a quiet voice. "I think I really did."

Clione was looking at him in suspicion, and nothing in his gaze indicated he'd felt relieved. No, that he'd believed Law in the first place. Not yet. "You've changed..." he repeated nonetheless, slowly, as if considering those words, without breaking the intent, focused eye-contact. "Okay, let's assume it's really the case. That not only your situation changed, but through the situation you started to change yourself." He nodded. "Fine, I admit I can see it. Living with Rosapelo has a beneficial effect on your psyche, I can't deny it. And that new you decided to treat other people in a different way now?"

"Something like that," Law replied, trying not to wince. "Even if I didn't start it properly, which you pointed out... I really didn't want to offend you."

Clione nodded again, and this time with more confidence. Law felt a weight lifted from his heart... and he added on the spur of the moment, "I would never want that you disappear from my life."

Clione opened his eyes wide but didn't say anything, while Law wondered if he wished he could take back these words... or not. But as he considered them, staring at his friend's face - as he considered the future - a sudden emotion welled up in him... and his mind lightened up with a surety that became stronger and clearer with every moment and every heartbeat.

He frowned, and his fingers clutched at the tablecloth, so he clasped his hands together. His reason was sounding the alarm... begging him to not say things before he properly thought them over - but had ever any good come from analysing? No, all good things had resulted from those spontaneous moves that had had nothing to do with reason.

He pressed his lips in a thin line and then, fighting the urge to run away from here, said in a quiet voice. "Once I asked you that you didn't count me out... remember?" Himself, he hadn't managed to push that conversation out of his memory, and now he felt that, for the first time, it didn't fill him with embarrassment. "Remember, Clione? I asked you that... It's still on, especially now that that I think that maybe in ten years... maybe even in five years-"

"You'll reach that stage that I will suffice?" Clione interrupted him, and his voice rang with earlier hostility, making it all sounding like an accusation. "When Rosapelo becomes an adult and moves out, starts his own life... and you could no longer bear with the solitude, for you've learned to need another person again? Then you'll reach for me who'll always be close... who promised to wait?"

Law felt like banging his fists on the table in response to such an obstinate and one-track thinking... but then he realised it was how Clione must have felt all the time, observing Law's ridiculous thought processes and denial even with the most stupid conclusions. That helped him retain his composure. He shook his head.

"No," he said calmly, although he was still fighting the impulse to flee and his heart was racing. "I think there's a chance that something will right itself in my twisted psyche by then..." He lowered his voice to a whisper. He licked his lips and then swallowed. He was clasping his hands so tight that his knuckles went white. He fixed his eyes on the tablecloth. "Something will get straightened out to make it possible for me to... return another person's feelings." He took a deep breath and glanced at Clione, who was sitting across the table and seemed to be not breathing. "You just... have to work on me. Don't give up on me. Don't stop being who you are for me... and even more... okay?"

Clione said nothing; he didn't react at all. His face was still a mask, but now completely devoid of emotion. His slate blue eyes were wide open, but their look couldn't be read. Although he was so close, he seemed to be more distant than ever. Time was passing, second by second, measured with heartbeats, and Clione was just sitting there and staring at him. Had he believed Law? Did he plan to answer? Was there any sense to Law's words?

Law's heart was pounding in his chest like it was going to wrench out. He swallowed down, but his mouth was dry. He relaxed his hands as he felt pain in his fingers, but they started to tremble the moment he loosened the grip. The words he'd just spoken were ringing in his ears; they were the only ones to be heard over the rush of blood, and all other sounds seemed to have vanished.

Law knew he'd said what he thought... what he felt... but suddenly he lost all confidence he'd had any right to say it. Loose fragments were banging around inside his skull. 'Ten years...' 'There's a chance...' 'Maybe...' He knitted his brows and curved his lips, realising one couldn't built their future based on something like that.

He concentrated his sight on Clione again. The warmth spread in his chest, and he classified it as fondness... but then he was filled with cold of hopelessness fuelled by reason. Reason had been right; spontaneity couldn't do a thing. "No, it was selfish on my part," he muttered, looking down. "Asking for ten years... Rely on chances... Forge-"

"I won't forget," Clione's bright voice interrupted him the same moment his friend's arm shot over the table to grab his own.

Uncertain, Law raised his gaze... and saw that the mask had fallen. Now Clione's expression was that of thousand emotions, and never before had he appeared so alive. Law saw hesitation and fear being replaced by joy and determination, and the look in the eyes become strong... with that strength that, Law knew, could result only from love. He felt relieved, as if he'd gained a victory without even realising he'd taken up the fight... so maybe he was simply given it. Maybe he shouldn't protest, only be happy with it, just this once. He wanted to be happy. Clione's happy face was good reason enough.

"I won't forget and won't give up," Clione said and shook his head, and Law thought even that gesture was something wonderful. "I've been by your side for a quarter of century. And I really don't intend to go anywhere. And now... that you said that..." His voice quivered, and his eyes glistened. "It wasn't a joke, right? No, Trafalgar Law never makes such jokes," he answered himself, and his tone was fully confident. Then, however, he sniffed... and the next moment he covered his face with one hand, the other still lying on Law's hand. "Sorry... I just..."

Suddenly he seemed - for all his tremendous strength - very fragile. Law had never felt comfortable when facing the turbulent emotions, but now he realised they made him happy now. After all, they were natural here... and were much better than Clione's closed stare from just a moment ago. They were right, and it filled Law with relief. Somehow, he'd managed to not ruin everything... And after all those times when it'd been him to yield to emotions and turn into a bundle of nerved and Clione would support him and let him collect himself, such role reversal was in place... Not that Law considered himself to be a composure incarnated now; he was shaken probably as much as the other part... but he guessed there was nothing wrong with it... no, he knew that from experience. Such a shock meant that something was happening, something worth getting involved in.

He turned his wrist to take Clione's hand. His fingers were still trembling, but he didn't care much about it. He needed contact, and his instincts told him that Clione needed it as well. His friend was still covering his face - and Law had no courage to ask him to look at him - but he squeezed his fingers with all his strength. Law didn't know if he wanted to say, 'I'm here', or maybe rather convey the desire and necessity to anchor in the safe haven, maybe both... But analysing every gesture was pointless; it was those gestures that mattered, and what they meant to the two of them.

They sat like that for a longer while until Clione finally regained his balance. He breathed deeply several times, wiped his face and looked at Law. And then he smiled, with a trembling yet radiant smile that gave confidence that everything was all right.

"Thank you," he said, relaxing the convulsive grip on Law's fingers. "I think I'll take a chance. You said I should be... like I've always been... and _even more?_ And _work_ on you?" he recalled Law's words and knitted his brows lightly. "Then, what exactly? Should I give you more psychoanalysis... or, rather, start to seriously hit on you?"

Law pressed his lips and fixed his eyes on the table. "Please, no more psychoanalysis," he muttered, feeling his cheeks burn. But he knew he was honest... and he still didn't let Clione's hand from his own.

Clione suppressed a snort. "In that field, I've very little experience... but I'll take up the challenge regardless," he declared. Then, however, his voice became hesitant. "But will _you_ risk it...? I know I could never replace Corazon. He was someone special to you..."

Law's head snapped up as he looked at him, frowning. What? How had Corazon got into this conversation?

"Are you stupid? Who says you should replace him? Cora-san was like a father to me," he replied with an offence. "But don't worry, I'm sure he would accept you anyway," he announced with faked haughtiness... and then the corners of his lips twitched when he remembered something else. "But if you insist on drawing my whole family into this talk, then let me inform you that Rosapelo already gave us his blessing," he muttered. "I think the kid is of the opinion we're made for each other," he added, rolling his eyes. "Or he just knows that I've no chances with anyone else..."

Clione slowly nodded and then tilted his head slightly. His smile turned somewhat mischievous. He stared at Law in silence for a longer while. Law waited patiently. His heart was still beating fast, but the beats were regular and gave him strength, and his breathing was even and smooth. His gaze kept returning to those slate blue eyes under the fair fringe, and with every glance he became more positive he didn't regret anything he'd said in the last fifteen minutes. Even if his life were to change, it couldn't possibly be a change for the worse.

'I changed,' he thought as if realising it... and maybe he really had; this whole conversation was the best proof for that. He didn't want to muse over it now; he only let himself an optimistic reflection, 'And if I changed, then there's a chance I could change some more.'

Finally, Clione withdrew his arm, rested his both elbows on the table and let his hands cup his face. He wasn't averting his eyes. "I'll do my best that it won't be ten years," he declared in a low voice.

And Law thought he didn't really object to that. He nodded firmly and smiled. "I'll do my best, too," he muttered quietly and kept the rest to himself, 'So that I could tell you then, _Thank you... and sorry for having you wait so long..._ "

He couldn't imagine better ending.

**THE END**

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**A/N. **The bonus chapter is just an extra and, if you didn't like it, you may as well forget it. As for the rest, I hope you liked the story and enjoyed reading it. Thanks for sticking with it until the end. It's the longest thing I've ever written, and then I even translated it into English, on top of it. I'm dying for your comments, so please take a moment to write a line or two, thanks!


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